Harry Potter and the City of Tents
by shedoc
Summary: Sequel to HP and the Soul Gems. Harry finds that Remus reappearance in his life tips off something of a domino effect. READ WARNINGS IN FIC
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – JKR (and several other companies etc) owns the characters that you recognise. I own the plot

This is a sequel to 'Harry Potter and the Soul Gems' and REALLY won't make sense if you don't read that first.

Notes – the following story is _**very**_ AU! Based on a 'what if the Ministry exiled Harry after he defeated Voldemort…' and then went on to build himself a new life and career. We will be seeing more of the cannon characters in this story, and using their POV. (So there should probably be a multiple POV warning as well.)

The same disclaimers about accents and dates from the last fic apply here.

_**And for those of you who clearly don't bother to read the warnings – mention of MPREG (though it's not Harry this time…) and slash…**_

Pairings – all the usual ones that I write for – eventually.

0o0o0o0

**Harry Potter and the City of Tents**

0o0o0o0

**Severus and Remus**

0o0o0o0

Severus Snape was pleased, in a deep corner of his soul, to see that the glare he'd spent years perfecting on low level Death Eaters and Hogwarts students was as potent as ever. The Auror in front of him was shifting his weight minutely from foot to foot and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Severus was vindictively wondering if he could get the idiot to actually wet himself when there was a chime and the port key that had been forced upon his lover returned.

Remus looked as if he'd been weeping, and Severus mentally cursed the brat for upsetting his already worn lover. The absence of said brat made it probable that his werewolf had been sent away with a flea in his ear, and Severus knew he'd likely be spending weeks with a moping former Marauder as a result. Remus was not as much fun when he was moping, and this turned Snape's ire up even further.

The Aurors in the room leapt forward and hit Remus with a variety of spells, designed to reveal any magic other than his core and wand that the werewolf may have been carrying with him. Apparently, the brat had achieved a small amount of success as a curse breaker, a piece of information that had been passed along clandestinely to them via a former colleague. She had died last winter, much to his sorrow. McGonagall had taught him a lot, and not only in the classroom. Remus staggered under the impact of the spells, but came out clean. The brat hadn't cursed him at least, which was something. The Ministry's Compulsion was broken, so Remus had delivered the message as required.

"Well?" the senior Auror barked, "What did he say?"

"He gave me a letter," Remus struggled for breath, and Severus itched to hex them away from the werewolf. Remus pulled the folded and sealed piece of parchment from his pocket, and Severus' sharp eyes noted that the blue wax had gold flecks in it, but no sigils or crest, "He wrote it in front of me and sealed it without magic."

The letter was floated from his hand with a spell and Severus divided his attention between the Aurors inept checks for further Dark magic, and Remus as he slowly regained his breath. Something in his chest eased when the werewolf finally straightened to his usual slouch and flicked a glance at him.

"To the Minister of Magic and his Representatives," the lead Auror read aloud, and then unsealed the letter with a flick of his fingers. The paper unfolded and was scanned again: Severus didn't bother to contain his sneer. There were only three lines on the parchment, and again the senior Auror read them aloud.

"Minister,

I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request. (That means no.)

Harry Potter."

With a snarl that didn't even compare to the ferocity of a moon torn Remus the Aurors threw the door open and stomped out, summoning the spent port key from around Remus' neck so roughly the leather thong burned his neck as it snapped. Remus breathed in sharply in reaction to the pain, and it was all that Severus could do to restrain himself. He stepped forward instead, took the other man by the upper arm and practically hauled him along to the atrium where they Flooed home.

He had no doubt whatsoever that the Ministry would barge in again and take them back to the Aurors offices to send Remus yet again with another futile message. The problem was that he had nowhere to run to. The man he'd once considered a mentor had turned out to be even more two faced than the Master Spy, and their potions business covered basic living expenses with a little saved for emergencies. He hadn't had time to access their funds today and was certain that the Aurors would be back tomorrow.

Their only option was to run, but he didn't know where they could go. For all his vaunted skills as a spy, his former boltholes were no longer viable, and they'd been so closely watched that privacy was almost non-existent. Remus seemed to recover the moment that they crossed their own hearth, turning to lock the Floo with a savage twist of the wards, and then gripping him tightly by the upper arms.

"This is no time for hysterics, Lupin," Severus snapped, hoping to head things off at the pass. He was given a very impatient shake in return, and Remus pulled another piece of parchment from up his sleeve. It was sealed with the same wax, and he pushed it into Severus' hand before stepping back and collapsing onto the couch in an exhausted heap. Severus went and sat beside him, yanking impatiently until his lover was curled with his greying head in his lap. He flicked the parchment open and unfolded it with a sensation akin to dread roiling in his stomach. He knew that whatever he was about to read would change their lives, and they would likely have very little time to deliberate upon it one way or the other. Remus was shaking lightly in his lap, but not for any good reasons, so Severus resented the slight movement.

The writing on the parchment was neat, and precise, marching across in orderly lines. There was still something of the scrawl he'd been used to seeing in the brats homework and essays, but it was tamed here. There was no honorific at the beginning.

'_I am in a position to offer you both honest work, teaching magic to 11+ year olds. You would be given control of the curriculum for your area, and responsibility for overseeing the less experienced teachers. Remuneration would be commensurate with your Mastery and experience, and living quarters would be supplied. Should you choose to turn down the teaching position, temporary living quarters could be supplied for you if you so wish, with further support towards re-establishing your current business._

_This offer has a time limit to it – we are both aware that the Ministry will be monitoring you closely and they are not inclined to respecting a man's limits._

_Should you wish to accept the offer you will both need to tap your wands to the bottom of this parchment. Should you wish to decline it, simply burn the parchment in your grate. The offer ends at sunrise._

_Harry Potter'_

Severus wound his fingers into greying hair and looked at the clock on the mantle. It read 'time to make a decision' and he restrained an exasperated snort. He tugged on the hair he was holding and Remus pulled his wand. That was clear enough, his lover wanted to take the offer. Alternatively, he was threatening to hex him for the hair pulling. Either way, Severus smirked into the dim room, appreciative of his lover's spirit.

"The things I put up with," Severus sighed long sufferingly, wanting his protest registered from the start, and pulled his own wand. Together they touched their wands to the parchment. It glowed once and there was a sharp pop. Two house elves stood in front of him, looking vaguely familiar. The male held his hand up for silence and handed Remus another note before running after his mate. Severus sighed again and leaned over to have a look. The elves were packing and would give them a port key once the job was finished. The entire contents of the property – anything that was moveable – would be coming with them, apparently including a large part of the garden. Only the buildings would be left behind.

The Ministry was not set up to monitor the use of magic inside their house, no matter how hard they'd tried, and the elves actions would go unnoticed. Severus shook his head and pushed Remus out of his lap, going to silently supervise the packing of his lab.

0o0o0o0

"How the hell did you conceal a magical parchment?" his lover's first words as the port key released them were entirely typical. Remus laughed and let go of the cushion that Dobby had produced, whirling away from Severus in an excess of relief. He hadn't been sure what his lover would do with the offer that Harry was making, in fact he hadn't even been sure what the offer was. Harry had said that there would be an offer, and that they would signal acceptance by putting their wands at the bottom. Remus had wanted out so desperately that he was willing to accept anything going as long as it got him free and clear from the Ministry.

"Harry wrapped it around my wand and then charmed it," Remus laughed, "The note was passive until it felt me channel magic through the wand to activate the house wards. Those Aurors never had a chance."

He took a breath, taking in the thunderous face of his lover and seeing beneath it to the worry and concern. He flung himself into Severus' arms impulsively, knocking the man back a step as he sealed their lips together in a kiss rough with love and passion. Several breathless minutes later Severus regained his presence of mind enough to unseal their lips and push him back.

"Remus! Focus man! You mangy oh my god!"

Remus grinned and refrained from speaking with his mouth full.

By the time they were done, the elves had discretely finished unpacking and left them to it. Remus had fetched up flat on his back with Severus sprawled smugly on top of him, both of them rather breathless and dishevelled.

"When I said focus, that wasn't what I meant," Severus finally summoned the strength to complain and Remus rolled his eyes and played with the potion masters hair, as was his wont in the post coital moments.

"Where in the name of Salazar are we?" his lover rolled off him and sat up with a grunt, rearranging his robes and looking around. Their couch wasn't too far away and Severus got up, hauled Remus after him and staggered over to it, sprawling onto it and pulling Remus down, fussing until he had the werewolf arranged to his satisfaction.

"Lake Victoria, source of the Nile," Remus tucked his face into a pale neck and let Severus poke and prod until he was ready to settle, "In a heavily warded camp."

"Potter's camp," Severus muttered, "Did you read the offer?"

"Not yet," Remus admitted with a yawn and nearly went cross eyed when the crumpled parchment was shoved in his face. He pulled his head back until he could focus and read the terse note quickly, "Oh… that's very… generous actually."

"Does he _know_ that I'm your lover?" Severus snarked, which was his way of agreeing. Remus smiled and settled his head back when a long finger jabbed the back of it, flexing his fingers idly in the soft black robes Severus preferred to wear.

"He does," Remus confirmed, hiding his grin when he realised that he would have a chance to get to know the wonderful children that had clustered around Harry, his self-declared 'Herd'. He'd also have a chance to see Severus meet the man that Harry Potter had grown into, and meet the children that Harry had helped create. He'd not met Harry's spouse yet, and was rather surprised that James' son had managed to put the one he'd loved and lost to exile aside to love again. James had always been an all or nothing lover, and once he'd fixed on Lily as his future, nothing had swayed him. Harry had shown all the signs of being similarly fixed, but perhaps Remus was being a bit too harsh. After all, it was more than ten years since he'd left England, and Harry had been forced to make a life for himself in a way that no other young man of his generation had.

"Well, which do you want? The teaching position or the business?" Snape sighed, and Remus looked up at his lover. He kissed the end of the large nose just to provoke the scowl he knew the action would garner, and smiled.

"I wouldn't mind teaching," he murmured, and Severus sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Will you lie still, man?" he complained, and Remus laid his head back obediently. Severus had turned out to be a post coital cuddler, though the cuddling was very much on his terms. Remus didn't mind; in fact, it was an oddly comforting ritual to be harassed into a cuddle.

"I should have known that you'd want to saddle me with the brats again," Severus grumbled, "If I have an aneurism I shall come back and haunt you."

"Yes Severus," Remus' tone was meek, but he was smiling into the warm chest. They both knew that the business had never done better than break even, and it would take time for him to re-establish the garden to the point that they could start again. Remus had loved teaching, and knew that despite his complaints Severus had also relished the challenge.

"Hello the tent!" Harry's voice called, and Severus tightened his arms, throwing a leg over Remus' as well to prevent him from moving. As they were both fully dressed, if a little rumpled, Remus had no intention of moving. Harry would have to accept him and his lover as they were, just as he would have to learn to accept the man that Harry had grown into.

"Come in Potter," Severus called, and the dark brown curtain in the room rustled, with Harry ducking through gracefully. He smiled at Remus, and nodded to the shocked man he was lying on, rubbing the back of the child that was called Kit.

"I see he won't let go," Remus said quietly, and Harry shook his head, perching on the coffee table that walked from its place near the door to its accustomed spot in front of the couch. They'd been occupying that space earlier, which explained why it was out of position.

"He had grass seeds in his ear again. Canker," Harry kissed striped hair, and tightened the arm he had around the little boy, "Our Healer had to summon them out, which makes his ear hurt worse, and the potion he has to take upsets his stomach."

"Humans don't get canker," Severus snapped quietly, in deference to the obviously upset child cuddled protectively in Harry's lap. Instead of the flash of anger or dislike that Remus had been braced to see, Harry merely smiled gently and patted his son on the back again. This was not the angry young man that Remus had known in the last days of the war, as was ably proven by his reaction to the old impatient tone that Severus was using. Remus felt his lover register that, and was relieved.

"He was a tiger cub at the time he was running through the grass, Mr Snape," the reply was soft and calm, "He's a natural born animagus, and he enjoys running in his form. I think he was playing catch with his sister's werecat. They often run together."

There was a moment of silence, and Harry glanced around the main room of their new home, evidently checking that everything was laid out correctly, though Severus would probably rearrange several things out of principle.

"I'd like to know what you've decided. I'm sorry to rush you into this, but if the teaching positions are to remain open we'll need to advertise, and my assistant is leaving for Canada in two days with his family for a short break," Harry shrugged the shoulder not occupied by his son, "He'll advertise while he's there and set up the interviews for me."

"We accept," Severus informed the green-eyed man, loosening his grip on Remus when he realised the werewolf had no intention of moving, and Harry had no intention of saying anything. Harry smiled and seemed relieved.

"Oh good," he sighed, "No interviews. I loathe them, and the rest of the team refuse to take responsibility for them, ungrateful wretches. Now, given that you're extremely experienced in the field, Mr Snape, I'd like to offer the position of Headmaster to you. You'd be in charge of several Masters in their chosen fields, but they're all either too young to have had an apprentice, or too used to teaching adults with a firm grasp of the basics. We've got the last stages of the approval for the Nomadic Academy of Magical Excellence going through the International courts now, and your first year class would only be three students. That is typical of the class sizes, so you'll have a lot of latitude when it comes to setting up the schedules. Ray has a packet of information for you, and we'll negotiate a salary for you both. Remus, I presume you'll be taking a class?"

"Yes," Remus nodded, finding it extremely odd to be taking part in a job interview while draped over his lover, "I was thinking of Care of Magical Creatures, actually."

"Good, we don't have a Magizoologist in the camp full time, he's already working at Beaubaxtons," Harry nodded, "Well, I'll let you settle in. There is a Charter, which you'll want to be familiar with, and of course, I'll expect to see you for the communal dinner at six tonight. The rest of the camp will want to meet the new Headmaster."

"I want Remus as my deputy," Severus announced suddenly, making Remus jump a little. He hadn't been expecting that at all.

"I don't see why not, Headmaster," Harry got up with a soft grunt and a wince, "It's your school now. I'll see you both at dinner then."

Remus watched in astonishment as Harry walked to the dark brown curtain, a slight limp marring his stride. The green eyed man ducked through the curtain with the graceful ease of someone long accustomed to such a motion, leaving Remus to look at his lover, bewildered by the changes he'd noticed.

0o0o0o0

Potter had left a book behind on the table, which was untitled and included the Charter that he'd mentioned. It was surprisingly complicated – the rules for the camp, the schedules of payment for communal services, the wards and customs all laid out for the neophyte to absorb. In the back there was a very firm statement about the equality that the camp members expected to be treated with, and mention of several non-human inhabitants, one of which was denoted as a werewolf.

Severus was furious that Potter had deliberately put the information in, seeing it as a slap at his lover, but Remus had merely lifted his head and sniffed for a moment, then calmly informed him that there was another werewolf in the camp, one that was very young.

They were met at three minutes to six by an older couple who introduced themselves as Damian and Barbara, and were listed in the Charter as the Headmaster of the non-magical school, and head of the communal day-care tent. The communal dinner area was little more than a few tables under a canvas flap, but Remus perked up happily and handled all the social niceties that he was so good at, leaving Severus to his observation and data gathering. Potter was seated at one of the tables, surrounded by a crowd of children, though Severus couldn't spot the longsuffering woman that had been foolish enough to have gotten involved with him.

During the pudding, which was excellent, a little girl approached Remus, who growled at her. Recognising the instincts of the wolf, Severus watched curiously as she was drawn in closely, her neck sniffed, and then shaken gently by her scruff. She leaned into his lover with a whine and was gathered to his chest quite protectively. Remus rumbled approval and then let her go, giving her a gentle push towards the anxiously hovering father in the background. That it seemed, was the end of that.

"That's Sally Morgan," Damian informed him, as if he'd asked, "She was bitten a year ago. I take it from her reaction that you've also been bitten?"

"I was three," Remus nodded, and Severus stirred himself to inform the man that he supplied his lovers' potion personally.

"Our current potions master also supplies for Sally," Barbara spoke up, and then turned to speak to someone who was calling her name. Severus wondered who that was and made a mental note to find out what sort of ingredients they had on hand. The elves had packed all that he'd need for Remus, it had been the first thing he'd insisted on, but there were other ingredients that he had been running low on.

They were introduced to the camp by announcement at the end of dinner, Damian shooting off a rainbow of sparks to get people's attention. Remus, the Gryffindor, also informed people of his Bite, and Severus was pleased to note that the only reactions were ones of sympathy, not disgust.

Potter left immediately after the announcement was done with, taking the horde of sprogs with him, and Severus blew out a sigh of frustration. As little as he wanted to, they needed to tell the brat what was going on at home, and would have to do so soon. He hadn't seen the tent that Potter entered, and although each tent was distinctly coloured, patterned or otherwise marked, he didn't yet know how to read them.

Remus was showing signs of strain, and he hauled his lover back to their tent and put him to bed. The wretched man wouldn't stay there unless Severus lay with him, which he did with the intent of getting up again once his lover was asleep. His own body betrayed him though and he woke early the next morning, at what he estimated was his usual time. He'd never suffered travel-lag, as some wizards did, so the change in time zone had not affected him. He'd never known if Remus suffered from it, and made a mental note to have a mild restorative on hand for him, just in case.

The kitchen was not difficult to locate, as it was occupied by Remus and smelt of breakfast and tea. They were interrupted in their washing up by a stranger's voice calling,

"Hello the tent," in what seemed to be the camp equivalent of knocking. Of course, it was difficult to knock on a tent, but had they never heard of bell pulls or warding chimes? Remus let their visitors in quite happily, and Severus had to suffer through a round of introductions of the five people that called themselves 'Harry's team'.

"We do need to speak to Potter," Severus informed them blandly, "As a matter of some urgency. There are things he needs to know."

"Potter isn't here, he left before sunrise," the Goblin of the group announced, looking none too impressed by the action, "We're not sure when he'll be back."

"If it's about the school, then I've got the details for that," the blonde who had introduced himself as Ray Fraser spoke up, and Severus crossed his arms over his chest in the fussy little movement that annoyed people without fail.

"It is personal, and not related to this camp," Severus informed him in an icy tone, the effect of which was ruined when Remus opened his yap.

"It's about events back home," his lovers' mild tone caused a lot more consternation that Severus thought the statement warranted. How typical of Potter to choose to surround himself with people who were as melodramatic as he was.

"Ah, well, we wanted to talk to you about that," the arithmancer, Harding Welsh gave them what was evidently supposed to be a friendly smile, "Harry has made it quite clear that he doesn't want to be involved in whatever it is that is going on in England. He's put you all behind him."

"Tactful, Harding," his wife snorted, "What he's trying to say is that we'd prefer it if you didn't spend a lot of time reminiscing about the good old days with Harry. He'll only get upset, and we'd like to avoid that."

"As his 'team'?" Severus sneered and the petite Italian woman snorted, speaking up for the first time.

"As his _family_," she informed them, "There is not a day that goes by that you all aren't missed, but his life is here now, and it's a good one."

"We aren't interested in reminiscing," Severus informed them, "And we do need to speak to Potter."

"I said he isn't here," the Goblin growled, "He left before dawn."

"Cowardice? How refreshing," Severus muttered, not quite under his breath. Their reactions were not what he was expecting. Instead of being incensed by the accusation, they rolled their eyes and shook their heads.

"Potter works for… an international law enforcement agency… and was called away on a mission," the Goblin announced with carefully shaded insinuation, "He is not expected back for several days. Don't ask me what or where, not even I know the answer to that."

"With Argent so close to her time, you couldn't expect him to take you, Trinket," Fraser said quietly, "Besides, you're holding the wards now that Harry is out of camp."

"And don't think we won't be having words about that little trick when I get back," Trinket scathed, and subsided into fluent Gobbledegook, which Severus had neglected to learn.

"Actually we came to catch you up on several key points in Harry's life;" the linguist waved the Goblin silent impatiently, "There are a few things you need to know about our Harry."

Severus exchanged a subtle glance with Remus. Evidently, things were not as they seemed.

0o0o0o0

Four days later Remus emerged from their tent early in the morning in time to see Harry limping slowly and laboriously up the path that Remus himself had first used to get to the camp. His best friend's son was relying on a thick branch for support and one arm was tucked inside his robes in an improvised sling. He was grimy and dusty, but his face lit up in a smile when he spotted Remus and he held a finger from his uninjured arm across one lip in a gesture for silence.

Severus and Remus had been discussing exactly what they were going to tell Harry, and Remus had come to realise that their arrival in camp was probably the quickest way to get Harry to interfere with the goings on in England. It had been a bitter pill to swallow. Remus didn't want Harry anywhere near the events occurring in England, but he knew there was no way that the former Chosen One would just stand back.

Remus hurried over to Harry's side, and Harry paused casually, as if coming up the path bloodied and torn was an everyday occurrence.

"Good morning Remus," Harry's voice had a slightly rough edge to it, and up close Remus could see the bruising around his neck, "Settling in?"

"What?" Remus gaped at the ridiculous question and made as if to take Harry's weight. He was waved off sharply, and Harry continued on his way, the frustrated werewolf falling into step beside him.

"What the hell happened?" Remus spat, and Harry shrugged with his good shoulder, aiming for the white tent that just screamed 'hospital'. While they were talking, Severus had emerged from their tent and was moving to intercept them, a comforting black streak in the corner of Remus' vision.

"The wee beasties were a mite frisky," the Scottish brogue was pure McGonagall, and Harry tilted him a sly look, "I had to be stern with them."

"Potter, you're delirious," Severus snapped, "Look Remus, he's been bitten."

Sure enough, there was a double puncture wound on Harry's thigh, though that was not the leg that needed the support.

"It was just a cobra," Harry waved it off; "He was a little frightened by all the shouting."

"Don't panic," the new voice made Remus look up and he recognised the Head Healer of the camp with relief, "He's immune to mundane snake bites. It's an interesting side effect of being bitten by a Basilisk and then healed by a Phoenix."

"When in Salazar's name did that happen?" Severus gasped, shocked out of his usual equanimity. Harry gave him a doubtful look as he was settled onto a bed, sighing in relief as his weight came off the injured leg.

"Second year at Hogwarts," even his voice sounded disbelieving, "There was a Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. The students were petrified because none of them got the full effect of its glare. I thought the staff at least had been told, but then again considering who was in charge of the staff…"

"You've killed a Basilisk?" Remus sat on an empty bed in shock, and the Healer chuckled, his wand waving calmly over Harry's body.

"He's killed two," the Healer said, "And he's getting better at it, because the second time he didn't get bitten. We had some very valuable potions ingredients out of that one."

"Oh yeah," Harry chuckled, "I thought the resident potions master was going to kiss me, or marry me or something."

"Have your children?" Severus offered in a dry voice, "Oh no, that's right. You've been doing that yourself."

"And a fun time was had by all," Harry muttered, his eyes drooping a little in fatigue, "Armando, I'd like to have dinner with the kids."

"You'll be up by then," Armando nodded, and Remus shot him a startled look. Surely, Harry would need more rest than that. He was terribly thin, pale and weary, and from the crunching noises, in need of a bone setting draught.

"Would you like to join us for dinner, Moony? I'd like you to meet the Herd;" Harry blinked slowly, "Mr Snape is also invited."

"Thank you, Harry," Remus smiled, and Severus rolled his eyes, which meant he'd come, "We'll be there. Six o'clock too early?"

"Come at five, that way you can meet them before they hit the feeding frenzy stage," Harry mumbled and his eyes fluttered shut. Remus looked at the man drowsing on the bed and wondered if he'd ever feel that he truly knew him again. Even when Harry had been a teenager Remus hadn't known all of him. It saddened him to think that his friends' child was such an enigma.

"We have meetings," Severus reminded him, in a 'don't make me go alone or I'll hex someone' tone of voice and Remus nodded, tearing himself away from Harry's side. They would see him tonight, and that would have to be soon enough. He'd already agreed with his lover that it would be best not to wait to tell Harry what he should know.

0o0o0o0

The thought that he had been placed in the position of a School Founder, that he was in fact the first Headmaster of an international academy by the grace of Harry Potter, was something that Severus found hard to accept. Magical schools were not formed lightly, and usually had a way of enduring one way or another for many generations. Of course, he was in charge of a tent school, not something that was finely crafted from sturdy stone or wood to suit their purpose, and that took some of the prestige away from the idea. Typical Potter, to give with one hand and take away with the other.

Potter's tent was near the edge of the communal area, and Severus had recognised over the last several days that the camp was organised according to profession. Potter's team were clustered with him, the masons and smiths were together, the guilds and associations in another group, and the support personnel mixed in with them all. His and Remus' tent had been placed nearer to the school tent, but still on the side near Potter's team. His lover was pleased by that.

From the outside, Potter's tent was a standard khaki canvas affair, with an awning and roof ventilation panels. The awning was a dark blue, with a gold fringe, and it struck Severus that the wax used on Potter's correspondence matched the awning.

He stood back and let Remus call for entry, and they were admitted without ceremony by an answering hail. Potter was standing by a brightly patterned curtain and he smiled as they entered. He certainly didn't look the battered figure he'd been early this morning, dressed in the neat casual Muggle clothes that were favoured in Arabic countries, though these ones fit at least in comparison to the oversized rags he'd worn in Headquarters almost a decade ago.

"I'll be right with you," Potter waved to the couch, "Have a seat and help yourselves. I'm afraid we've had a small crisis. Won't be a moment."

It seemed that his manners hadn't improved any; a proper host would never consider leaving guests to fend for themselves. There were refreshments on the table however, so he'd at least learned the rudiments of hosting. Remus seemed quite happy, looking around keenly and settling onto the smaller of the couches. Severus took the armchair, in a purely tactical move.

The tent was a mixture of furniture styles from all over Asia, Europe and Africa, and there was a small scattering of children's toys about the place. There were several bookshelves and many photos, which he could see his lover was clearly dying to examine. Severus had pleaded with the man, but he knew that there would be an appearance of the dreaded photo albums before the night was out.

The curtain rustled and a chuckling boy came out from behind it, batting at damp hair in an effort to get it to sit down. Severus felt his heart stop for a moment, as the miniature Harry Potter, sans the scar and green eyes, gave up on his locks and walked towards them, a smile on his face.

"Hullo!" he held his hand out to Remus politely, "I'm Davy. Daddy says that you're our Uncle Moony?"

"Yes," Remus beamed and Severus rolled his eyes at the naked emotion in his lovers' voice, "I'm pleased to meet you Davy."

"Daddy said to check that you were alright for a few more minutes? We had an incident with some paint, some pets and some accidental magic earlier, and he's still trying to clean the rest of us up. Don't ask," Davy Potter, a ridiculous name that only Potter could inflict on the boy, smiled engagingly and Remus reassured him that they were quite all right.

"I'll go let him know then, and see if I can rescue a few more of us for you to talk to," Davy shrugged and headed back for the curtain that seemed to be hiding a multitude of sins. Once the boy was out of sight Severus heaved a sigh and hauled himself over to sit with the overly emotional wreck on the couch, dropping a firm hand onto one knee.

"He looks so much like Harry," Remus cleared his throat, "And he called me Uncle Moony!"

"Wipe your face," Severus muttered in a long suffering tone and handed his lover a crisp linen square, "And get hold of yourself man, before you frighten them all away."

He kept his hand on Remus' knee until the man stopped leaking at the eyes and patted it once before tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robes. The curtain rustled again and this time Davy of the insipid name was back with more Potters, the eldest of them all trailing along behind his brood. Potter swept them with a keen look but didn't say anything about the state of the werewolf on his couch, which at least showed the brat had learned some tact in the last decade or so.

"Well, you've met them in passing, Remus, but I thought we should formally introduce them to you," Potter smiled, apparently as happy to ignore Severus as he was to be ignored, "Children if you wouldn't mind introducing yourselves properly, I'd take it as a personal favour. This is your Uncle Remus Lupin, whom is also Moony. The gentleman next to him is Headmaster Snape."

"David Ronald Potter," Davy redeemed his name, and shook hands properly. The next was a redhead, James Remus, followed by a girl with a snake peeping out of her sleeve, Maria Hermione. Upon the snake hissing to her, she hissed back, which then sparked off a round of hissing between herself, the snake and her eldest brother. Potter senior hissed something at them all, and they subsided, with sheepish looks in the direction of their guests.

Remus had quivered in shock at hearing one of the horde partly named for him, but it was Severus who got a shock when Lily Sirius presented herself, her hair a little too dark to be truly Lily's colour. He didn't bother to contain the snort upon hearing her middle name, and skewered Potter with his best 'you idiot' look. He was aggravated to see that it slid off the brat like water from a ducks back.

Elizabeth Molly followed with hair in several bright and clashing colours, which changed as he watched. Christopher Arthur, he of the tiger cub, was next, a single red stripe falling through black tresses, followed by twins with matching bright blue hair, Evan Rubeus and Abigail Ginerva. Each child shook Remus' hand politely, and then nodded to him when his own hands stayed firmly inside his robes.

"Three metamorphmagus, an animagus and two parselmouths," Severus summed up when the greetings were over, and Harry beamed at him proudly. He was mildly disappointed to see that the days when it was easy to bait the boy were over, and a little chastised by the glance his lover threw at him. Perhaps it was best not to pick a fight in front of the children.

"Yes, all my children are very talented," he agreed, and Remus relaxed beside him when the brat saw fit to ignore his tone, "I've been very blessed."

Severus sat back with a rustle, and let his lover distract them from the potential argument by asking the children enough questions to keep them occupied until adulthood.

0o0o0o0

Dinner with Harry's children had been lively. The eight children had been well mannered for their ages, but they'd all been keenly interested in hearing stories about 'daddy' when he was younger, and Remus had obliged them, a tinge of happy guilt tweaking his conscience. Harry had moaned and huffed and whined, to which his children had responded with giggles and looks of such love that it had quite taken Remus' breath away.

Pudding was followed by teeth brushing, pyjamas, stories, and bed, in a whirl that was well practiced and organised down to the smallest of tasks. From youngest to eldest, the children were slowly but surely put to bed for the night, Harry moving from room to room until the curtains were pulled shut and peace settled over the main rooms. Harry came back to sit with them, taking a cup of the aromatic tea he'd left for them to drink and collapsing into his armchair with an exhausted sigh.

"I'm sorry," he apologised, "It's hard to be a good host at bedtime."

"They are remarkably well trained," Severus surprised Remus with the comment, as his lover had been mostly silent since the children had emerged from the bathroom prior to dinner. Harry gave the comment a tired smile and shrugged.

"I quickly learned that routine and consistency were the main weapons in a parent's arsenal. And they've got me well and truly outnumbered…" Harry chuckled and ran a hand through hair that was as messy as it ever had been. He drew his knees up to his chest and cradled his tea against them, peering at Remus over the bony escarpment.

"Something has been bothering you all evening, Moony," the tone was gentle, compassionate, "And Armando warned me that you'd both insisted on speaking to me about a personal matter. What is it?"

"We need to tell you about the Weasley's Harry," Remus sighed, "I'm afraid it's not good news."

He watched his almost godson become paler and paler as Severus outlined in terse dry sentences the fate of the family that Harry had loved as his own. Upon his exile, the Weasley family had been virtually under house arrest, as had several other people who had publicly supported Harry. They had been branded as Dark Sympathisers, and had been subject to the same level of scrutiny that Remus had due to his status as werewolf. Ironically, there were one or two former Death Eaters who had fared better than one of the oldest Light families in Britain. With the advent of a new self-declared Dark Lord, Britain had once again been plunged into a climate of fear and violence. This Dark Lord was intent on domination of this plane of existence and several others, including the realm of demons. He was attacking the Ministry of Magic repeatedly in an attempt to breach through to the Department of Mysteries, and the supposed wealth of artefacts held there that would help him achieve his goal. During one such attack two years ago, Arthur Weasley had been cursed, and no one had been able to break it. The family patriarch was slowly dying, and it was heartbreaking to watch. It was feared that the end was near, and that fear had gathered all of Arthur's children, and their spouses and children, to England to be with him and their mother at this time.

The Ministry, in its wisdom, had decided that for the safety of the family, and presumably, to prevent them from defecting to the ranks of the newest Dark Lord, it would be best to take the entire family into protective custody; they had promptly been locked up in the bowels of the Ministry itself. The Minister himself had announced that their arrest was justified by their past public allegiances to another declared Dark Lord, one Harry Potter. Upon hearing this, Harry had made a noise like a wounded animal and buried his face in his knees.

"They were supposed to be safe," he whispered, and Remus shot Severus an uncertain look. They had both debated as to the reasons that the Weasley's had left Harry to live in exile all alone, as had several of their acquaintances. None of them had ever been able to determine the full reason.

"When they came to my room in St Mungo's they told me that accepting the Exile was best for all concerned. I could avoid Azkaban, and the Weasley's could live their lives. Arthur was employed by the Ministry, and his pay was just enough to cover his families' living expenses. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were still in school, and needed to graduate. No one would employ them without qualifications, and I couldn't take their futures away… Percy was dead, but the twins had their business in England, in fact, the only ones that could earn a living out of the country were Bill and Charlie. They told me that if I maintained contact with the family, or initiated it with the two eldest sons, then they would be sent to Azkaban to keep the rest of the population safe. The Minister said that in the current climate no one would put up with another Dark Lord raising an army and that there would be no one to support me. Dumbledore said if I hadn't tried to Crucio Bellatrix LeStrange when I was fifteen he might have been able to help me, but it was for the best that I leave now."

Remus wanted to be ill, and from the expression on Severus' face, it was apparent that his lover was equally disturbed to hear the blatant manipulation that a weakened and injured teen had been put through. Harry would have been at his most vulnerable just after the final Battle, and if reports were to be believed, he'd have had almost no magic to defend himself with. Exhausted and isolated, he'd have believed the words of his trusted Headmaster.

"That does not explain why you have remained apart from them," Severus spoke up, baring the significant part of the mystery in his usual direct style. Harry lifted his face from his knees, his lashes wet, but composed.

"The year that Ginny graduated, in fact it would have been the day she graduated from Hogwarts, I was sent a letter by the Minister, stating that he had signed an execution warrant for the Aurors, effectively revoking my Exile and declaring me a rogue. If I return to Britain, I will be killed. If I contact anyone living in Britain, they will be held, without trial or recourse, in Azkaban. The formal seal of the Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot was also attached," the green-eyed man sighed and sipped at his cool tea, leaning his head back against the armchair he was sitting on, "It wasn't worth the risk."

Severus hissed under his breath in shock, and Remus resisted the urge to swear long and loud, aware that there were children sleeping behind the curtains around them. Harry sighed after a moment and then stood, wincing as he did so. Remus recalled that the day had started with Harry arriving in camp injured and exhausted and stood as well, getting Severus up from the couch with a well placed glare of his own.

"Thank you for telling me this," Harry put his cup down and stumbled a little, righting himself with a sharp breath and a muttered curse, "I'm more tired than I thought…"

"We'll go," Remus hastened to his side and hugged him carefully, "I'm sorry we had such frightful news to tell you."

"Good thing I'm not in the habit of hexing the messenger," Harry hugged him back and nodded at Severus, "I'll see you later, Moony."

"Yes," Remus agreed and stepped back. Severus nodded at Harry in reply, and together they ducked through the curtain, the action already becoming normal, and headed back to their own tent.

It wouldn't be until breakfast the next day that both Severus and Remus realised how well they'd been deceived.

0o0o0o0

Next – Ron and Hermione aide and abet a criminal act

Author's final note – yes, I do intend to tease you about who it is that Harry loves and pines for, for just a little bit longer!!


	2. Chapter 2

0o0o0o0

Disclaimer – still not mine, etc…

0o0o0o0

**Hermione and Ron**

0o0o0o0

The cells that the Ministry had placed them in had only the bare minimum of amenities. There were bunks with a blanket and a small privacy screen for washing and other necessaries. Light was provided by a torch that burned without heat perpetually and was firmly fixed to the wall, probably with a permanent sticking charm. Hermione had been unable to reverse the charm wandlessly, so the torch became a frustrating reminder of a weapon denied.

The family had been split into rough groups. The Weasley Spouses and their children were in one cell, and Hermione could only hope that the conditions for the children were a bit better than for her cell. The Weasley Men were in another cell, and she hadn't seen or heard from them since they'd been taken in. Her husband was in there, as was her father-in-law, and she could only hope and pray that the Weasley patriarch was still alive. Arthur had become so fragile, thin and wan, his once fiery hair paled almost entirely to white. The Weasley Women, and for some reason beyond her comprehension Hermione had been included in that category instead of Spouse, were in a third cell. Ginny spent most of her time with her mother, and Hermione privately thought that Molly was going to break soon. She had not been apart from her husband for more than an hour since he'd been cursed, and the torture of not knowing how he was faring was acute. The Ministry couldn't have devised a crueller punishment.

The Spouse's cell was diagonally opposite from theirs, and sometimes the wall that led into the corridor outside went from opaque to transparent. If this occurred simultaneously, the Spouses could signal to her cell, and had been doing so in an effort to keep Molly's spirits up. The children would come and wave to Grandmother, and Ginny's husband, who was taking care of their three children, would use the signals that they had devised in the war to communicate more complex messages.

The war continued to haunt them, reminded as they were every day of their losses and betrayals. Even after all this time, she couldn't speak to Ron about Harry. Both of them felt keenly the betrayal of their friend, abandoning them to the vagaries of a corrupt Ministry. He had escaped, and they had been left to make their way as best as they could. Her life had taken a very different turn from how she had imagined it. She had married into the Weasley family, but her dream of becoming a Professor had been smashed by her status as best friend to Harry Potter. Professor McGonagall had offered her an apprenticeship, and the two of them had worked hard on the Professor's business. She had gained her Mastery in Transfiguration, and a friend in her former Head of House. Towards the end of her life, Minerva had become a little secretive, often giving Hermione looks of such compassion combined with longing, that the bushy haired woman hadn't known what to make of it. Since her mentor's death, Hermione had maintained the business on her own, though her husband had often urged her to 'chuck it in'. He disliked the long stretches of time they spent apart, and Hermione had to admit that she had been seriously considering it of late. Despite all she had lived through in her very busy life, she was still young enough to think about children of her own, and her husband would make a good father.

Ron had become a broom wright, and his work was sought after by several different companies, something that he was justifiably proud of. He'd worked hard to gain his status, and as an independent member of the guild, he could pick and choose the commissions he took on. Ginny's husband had offered him some advice on building up his reputation, and once Ron had got past the idea of Ginny marrying Draco Malfoy, he'd taken the advice. Malfoy had quite a sharp business sense, and that had helped Ron build his success.

Hermione had to admit that marrying Draco had not been the worst thing Ginny could have done. The two of them were well matched in temperament and ideals, balancing each other out. Draco gave Ginny the airs and graces that had turned her into a Witch to be reckoned with and Ginny had knocked the snobbishness out of her husband. Draco had turned from the Dark in the last months of the war, and had acted as a spy under Harry's sole command, giving them information that had helped them to locate and destroy the final horcruxes; or at least the ones not located within Harry.

Draco had taken Ginny to France, thus escaping from the Ministry's intrusions into their lives, but the curse on Arthur had called his daughter home, bringing her children and husband with her. They had moved into the Burrow at Arthur's insistence, and Draco had proven himself to be a very amiable and helpful son-in-law. It was obvious that Ginny adored him, he worshipped her in return, and Hermione had been genuinely happy for them both. All of the Weasley children had come home, including Bill and his wife Fleur, along with their five children.

Hermione was drawn from her thoughts when the cell that she was sitting in shuddered. Dust drifted down from the ceiling, and the torch actually flickered. Molly looked up, life returning to her eyes in a rush, and Ginny quickly stood up from where she had been sitting and holding her mothers hand. The cells were deep inside the Ministry, and it was no secret that the Sorcerer who called himself 'Son of Merlin' was attacking the building they were housed in with more and more frequency. Disturbances like this were an almost welcome break in the monotony of cell life, and they had an unexpected but very serendipitous side effect.

The wall that led to the corridor became transparent again, and all three of them hurried to it. Draco was standing at his own wall and Ginny sighed in relief.

"Hello, Draco," she murmured, though the barrier was sound proof and didn't let them hear each other. They were very surprised to hear Draco gasp.

"Dearest!" he put a hand on the invisible wall in front of him and grimaced when it held, "Are you alright?"

His voice was shaken, further proof if anyone needed it, that Draco Malfoy hadn't married Ginny for reasons other than love. Hermione watched as Mrs Malfoy smiled and put her own hand on the invisible barrier, as if reaching out to her husband.

"We all are," she replied and he nodded, before turning and looking down the corridor. Molly was also pressed to the barrier in an attempt to spot her husband and her sons. The rest of the spouses and those children that were awake had come to the opening of their cell and the noise level rose dramatically as people started calling across to each other. Some of the voices were not familiar to Hermione, indicating that there were other prisoners down here.

"Shut up!" the bellow came from further down and Hermione sighed in relief at the familiar voice. All that time working with dragons had really increased his volume control.

"Charlie!" she cried, "Charlie is…"

"We're all fine, Hermione," the reply had Molly sagging against her wall in relief. Her son would not lie about Arthur's demise, "Ron's sitting with Dad now."

The cells shook again, and the torches flickered and went to about a quarter of their previous strength. It was obvious that they were under attack once more, and the idea of being trapped helplessly in their cells while the Son of Merlin laid waste to the Ministry was not an appealing one. Their wands had been confiscated when they'd been taken into 'protective custody', and Hermione had never reached the level of proficiency that Harry and Ron had for wandless magic. She would not be able to take down the barrier holding her prisoner, let alone the others.

"Bloody hell," Hermione swore softly as she watched the dust float down into the room, "We have to get out of here."

There was the sound of stone grinding on stone, and Hermione watched as Draco ducked back into the cell, reappearing with his three children, the baby cradled in his arms. The sound stopped and Ginny clutched Hermione's wrist tightly as footsteps replaced it. They were brisk and resolute, though slightly arrhythmic, and Hermione squinted into the gloom, trying to see who was walking down the corridor. The other prisoners had fallen silent, and when the man came into sight, she could understand why. He was thin, and of average height, but there was an air to him that screamed danger. His battle robes swirled with each precise movement, and although he had a slight limp, there was no indication that the injury would prevent him from doing whatever he felt necessary.

The man walked without pause to the Spouses cell and pulled something out of the folds of his robe. It enlarged itself with a flick of his fingers and floated obediently beside him. Draco's eyes had widened, obviously he recognised their visitor, and when the man spoke, Hermione did too.

"Get the children onto the carpet, the older ones and the adults are to hold onto it. It's a port key; it will take you somewhere safe."

"Potter?"

"Not now, Malfoy," Harry's voice was cold, and the carpet floated into the cell. Draco hesitated for a moment, but Ginny was pressed against the barrier to their cell, nodding frantically, and Harry had treated the blonde fairly in his time as spy for the Boy Who Lived. Draco put his daughter onto the carpet and helped put the younger children on as well, including his son. His eldest daughter was old enough to grasp the edge and Draco wrapped an arm around her as well before securing his own grip. They were gone in an instant and Harry turned and limped his way towards their cell. He was familiar and a stranger at the same time, and Hermione wondered for a moment if they were going from the frying pan to the fire.

"Thank you," Ginny sounded close to tears, and Molly put an arm around her daughter as their cell opened to the corridor. Harry nodded and fished out a bag. He gave it to Ginny and then tossed something to Hermione. She gasped as the stick of wood flooded her with warmth.

"My wand!"

"Ginny has the rest of the families in that bag, but I only recognise yours and Ron's," Harry said softly, "Ginny, I need you and Molly to take the port key out now. I've got Ron's wand with me, and the others will follow you soon. Hermione, will you stay for a moment?"

"Of course," she nodded, realising that Harry may well need their back up to get out of the Ministry. There was no way that the alarms hadn't been sounded in the Aurors division, and he'd need all the help he could get to get them out safely. Hermione watched as Harry handed a piece of string to her mother and sister in law, and they disappeared.

The rest of the inmates were shouting again, and Hermione stuck close to her former best friend as he moved up the corridor. Although they passed several occupied cells, Harry didn't once pause to let the inmates out. Hermione approved of this – not all of the people locked in here were innocent, if any, and they had no time to begin an interrogation to discover who should be freed and who should not.

"Hermione!" Charlie's voice was urgent and she sped up, coming to Harry's side as the cell containing the Weasley men came into view. Charlie's eyes widened when he saw Harry and he gaped for a moment before recovering from the shock.

"Harry!" he gasped, and stepped back into the crowd of exclaiming men when Harry waved for him to do so.

"Everyone else has gotten out, you lot are the last," Harry's voice had deepened a little since his teenage years, but it was still unmistakably him, "Ron, I've got your wand."

A hand waved above the crowd and Harry tossed the wand to it, pulling out another piece of string. It was long enough for them all to grasp, and Hermione wondered how many port keys Harry had brought. The cells they had passed were full, and if he wanted to release all of the prisoners, he'd need a ball of the stuff.

"It's a port key," he informed the Weasley brothers, "It will take you to your families. I need to examine Mr Weasley before I send him after you; Ron and Hermione will stay if they agree?"

"Dad," a weakened voice corrected him, "Dad, Harry."

"Dad," Harry agreed, passing the string to Charlie, who exchanged a long look with Hermione before turning to his brothers. Hermione watched the crowd of redheads disappear and then turned to look at the remainders. Ron was perched on the side of his Dad's bunk; a hand resting on the other mans leg. Harry was kneeling beside them both, the hand that didn't hold his wand stroking tenderly through the white hair. His face was calm, but his eyes held immeasurable sadness as he looked at the wreck that Arthur had become, a reaction that Hermione had learned to hide in deference to the sick man.

"I was so pleased to get that hug, Harry;" Arthur smiled faintly, "Bill passed it on…"

"Good," Harry smiled, but his heart wasn't in it, all of his attention on the glowing tip of his wand, "Did you know I specialised in organic curses? Why didn't you send for me?"

"The Ministry would have murdered you the moment you broke the exile," Arthur shook his head, and Harry scowled. He didn't say anything else, returning his concentration to his spells. Ron was staring at him intensely, but Harry was apparently oblivious to that. The glow from his wand tip faded and he grunted, sitting back on his heels, showing his usual grace and perfect balance.

"I can't transport you while the curse is active," he informed Arthur and Hermione dropped a hand onto Ron's shoulder, gripping it tightly in disappointment. She may have ambivalent feelings about Harry, but she had hoped that he'd be able to pull something off for the family.

"I can break it, but it will be very painful Arthur. Normally I'd set up a proper ritual and do it slowly so as to avoid any discomfort, but I don't have the time. The Aurors are under attack at the moment, but as soon as they see the morons upstairs off they'll come to investigate the alarms on the cells."

"Typical. You can't even appreciate those who you send into danger," Hermione huffed and Harry glared up at her, his green eyes flashing in the half-light.

"I have _nothing_ to do with the Son of Merlin," he hissed, his anger shocking, "I simply took advantage of his latest attempt on the Ministry. If he hadn't attacked tonight I would have had to wait until some friends arrived to help me get you out."

"Harry…" Arthur caught the green-eyed man by the wrist, "She didn't mean that…"

Harry blew out a breath and looked down at the cursed man, nodding obediently. Hermione wilted under the glare that Ron was giving her and bit her lip when he slid his shoulder out from under her hand. Harry took a breath and reversed his grip on his wand, holding it over Arthur's chest. He handed Ron a port key with his other and then braced that hand on Arthur's chest.

"Once the curse is out of him, you'll need to take the port key," Harry instructed, his voice hard and flat, expecting obedience, "Get all three of you out to safety and I'll join you later. I need to put the wards on the cells to rights so no one else escapes. You'll be met by a Healer on the other end of the journey, and he'll check you over to make sure I've done this correctly, Dad."

Hermione took the end of the string numbly, and watched as Harry leaned down and kissed Arthur on the cheek before putting both hands on the wand and stabbing it directly down, deep into Arthur's chest.

0o0o0o0

The three of them were met by an Italian Healer, who took immediate charge of Arthur as he swayed on his feet between them. His father had been unable to stand for months, supported or not, and this immediate return of strength proved beyond all doubt that he had been healed in the brutal ritual that Harry had just put them through. Ron refused to leave his father's side and Hermione stayed with him, an arm around his waist in silent support. The Healer stepped back after a few minutes and smiled at them all, a hand patting Ron's dad on the arm gently.

"You're clear of all harmful magic's and taints," the announcements made Ron want to sag to the floor in relief, "Harry was most thorough. A few days rest will see you recovered physically, and your full magical strength will return by the end of the month at the latest. Your wife is here; I'll pass the news to her and let her in, Mr Weasley. Welcome to the City of Tents."

The Healer ducked through the curtains, and Ron wiped his face defiantly before leaning over and kissing his dad on the cheek just as Harry had done. Arthur smiled up at him, colour already faintly present in his cheeks, and Ron grinned, stepping back as the curtains parted and Molly hurried in, sobbing in her own relief. Ron let her have access to her husband and the Healer unobtrusively widened the bed before urging her onto it. In moments Ron's mum was asleep, his dad dozing in her arms, both of them more peaceful than Ron had seen for a long time.

Outside the curtains, there was chaos as his brothers and sister reunited with their loved ones, children clinging and several spouses in quiet tears. Hermione was swallowed up in Charlie's arms and Ron patted his brother on the back gently, stepping away to find a clear space to have a moment to himself. The hospital closely resembled the field tent that Madam Pomfrey had used in the Triwizard Tournament, and Ron remembered that the Healer had said something about the City of Tents. The name was obviously literal in nature, and he wondered where they were, geographically speaking. Port keys were normally confined to the country they were located in, unless the person casting it had access to the international wards. That was usually a ministry official, or a law enforcement officer, though there weren't any international law enforcement officers stationed in Britain at the moment. Ron could clearly remember the outrage when they'd withdrawn from England, effectively leaving them alone to deal with any crises that erupted. He'd thought at the time that it served them right, the Ministries corruption and questionable ethics finally reaping their reward. After all, they had exiled a boy that had just deposed a Dark Lord, acting while he was still in his hospital bed. It was no surprise to Ron that the exiled man had found a way to circumvent the wards that supposedly protected Britain to come to his family's aid.

There was a quiet pop and Ron found himself looking down at a house elf. There was something familiar about him, and it took a moment for his tired brain to recognise Dobby without his tower of hats and odd assortment of clothes. Despite that fact that the elf was wearing a towel to announce that he was no longer a free elf, Ron couldn't remember seeing the green creature look better. Dobby was healthy, stood straight, and was beaming in genuine pleasure at him.

"Hullo Dobby," Ron rasped, "How are you?"

"Very happy to see all of Master Harry's Wheezy's," Dobby bounced on his toes, "Dobby and Winky have been very busy getting the Wheezy's tents all ready for them, and retrieving their ownings!"

"Belongings?" Ron translated, noting that Dobby's habit of naming the Weasley's as Harry's family hadn't changed since they'd last seen each other, "You went to my house?"

"Dobby and Winky did, and we have everything in good order. Master Harry was most particular about that!" Dobby nodded, "Master Harry felt it best. The Wheezy's cannot return to that awful place, and Master Harry wants them to be happy!"

"That's very kind of him," Ron nodded, the surreal conversation starting to do his head in, "I don't suppose you can show me to the tent he's got ready for us then? I could do with a shower and a kip."

"Dobby is here to do just that," the elf confirmed and turned, sending a shower of sparks into the air to catch everyone's attention. Once he was sure he had it, he announced that there were homes ready for them, and led the assembled Weasley family out of the hospital tent.

Wherever they were, it was night time, and the stars were not in any pattern that was familiar to Ron, though he'd be able to work them out if he had the time and energy. The air smelt fresh, it was warm, and there was a lake glimmering in the distance. Tents were arrayed in neat rows, all sorts of colours and configurations rustling in the evening breeze, but it was the atmosphere that soothed Ron more than anything else did. He felt safe and accepted, much as if he would if he'd entered the area protected by the family wards on the Burrow. Dobby led the way to a grouping of tents behind the hospital tent, and stopped at the second one, announcing that it was for Bill and Fleur. The third was for Charlie and Hermione, the fourth for Fred and Tonks, the fifth for George and Angelina, the sixth for Ginny and Draco, and the last for Ron. He stood watching as his siblings and their children disappeared inside their own tents before ducking inside. He was greeted with the sight of his own couch and armchairs, laid out as they had been at home, and managed to find his kitchen, dining table and study all set out properly as well. His workshop was also set up exactly, with the design table underneath a skylight. His bed was finally located with a groan of relief and Ron collapsed gratefully, out before he'd had a chance to change his clothes.

Birdsong greeted him in the morning, and it didn't take long to get up, clean up and make breakfast from his well-stocked cupboards. Dobby had apparently taken note of his favourites, as they were all present and he shook his head, wondering what the hell he'd do now. It was obvious that he'd never be able to go back to Britain, and his skills were good anywhere, but he wasn't sure he wanted to re-establish himself once again. He'd finally found Harry, or rather, Harry had found him, and Ron had a lot of unfinished business with the former Boy-Who-Lived.

Deciding that he should at least take in the lay of the land and see if he could persuade his mum to leave his dad long enough to take her own bath and rest for a while, Ron exited the homely tent, smiling at the pleasant view that greeted him. The lake was even more beautiful in daylight, and the warmth of the sun promised a glorious day. There were several people moving around the collection of tents, including children, a sight that reassured him. Their happy laughter and carefree faces offered proof that they were safe and well cared for, something he'd expect to see in a camp that Harry dwelled in.

"Good morning, Ron," Hermione's voice broke into his musing and he turned, swallowing a snicker at the hickey on her neck, gesturing to it and raising an eyebrow.

"I won't ask how you slept," he told his friend, who blushed and scowled, applying a quick glamour, "Maybe I should ask _if_ you slept…"

"Shut it, Weasley," Hermione grumbled good naturedly, and Ron grinned, wrapping her in a hug and then stepping back. They were interrupted by a short figure that came barrelling out of a tent with a shriek of laughter and almost ran into them, skidding to a stop barely in time.

"Harry?" Hermione gasped, and Ron watched as the child laughed, a happy sound that his friend had never made in their time at Hogwarts.

"No! I'm Davy, Aunt Hermione!" his voice was a young version of Harry's, and the elfin face and messy hair made for a very strong resemblance to his father. It was the dark blue eyes and lack of scar that made him different, that and the air of confidence that Harry had only possessed in battle.

"You're going to pay for that Davy!" another young voice shouted and Davy laughed again, dodging around behind Ron and running as a redheaded child burst out of the tent, followed by a tiger cub. Both boy and cub had pink dye on them, and the redhead was at least chuckling as he pursued his quarry. The tiger cub stumbled to a halt and there was a shiver, pop and then a boy with Harry's hair and eyes appeared, his resemblance marred by the red streak running though his hair.

"Uncle Ron?" the child was no more than three, and liberally stained with pink dye, "Hullo! I'm Kit. Are you staying then?"

"Uh…" Ron wasn't sure how to reply when Dobby popped up next to the child and started scolding, vanishing the pink dye and telling him to get back inside the tent and get ready for the day.

"Ok Mr Dobby," Kit nodded and waved to Ron before running back towards the tent he'd exited. Dobby tutted under his breath and popped away again, no doubt in pursuit of the other two children.

"Looks like Harry has been busy," there was a subtle barb in Hermione's voice and Ron flushed, his hopes pretty much dashed by the appearance of Harry's children. He'd thought that Harry had loved him, though they'd never had a chance to declare themselves. Ron had never been able to settle into a permanent relationship, his partners no match for his absent friend. It seemed that Harry hadn't felt the same way. Hermione had more than once urged him to settle with someone, but part of Ron hadn't given up hope that he'd find a way to get out from under the Ministry scrutiny and find Harry one day. Much to Ron's bewilderment, Hermione had felt that Harry's decision to go into exile rather than Azkaban had been a betrayal of sorts, as the Weasley's, Hermione and Remus had all come under fiercely relentless scrutiny to ensure that they weren't in contact with him. Ron still couldn't believe that she would expect their friend to have endured unjust imprisonment for them, and their friendship had cooled for a time. Now, for the sake of family harmony, they didn't discuss it.

"Mr Weasley, there's a meeting in the communal dining area in ten minutes," a blonde man spoke up. They both jumped, not having noticed his arrival, and he gave them a friendly smile, though his eyes were wary, "You're required to attend. You too, Mrs Weasley, it's over there."

Ron nodded to show he understood and headed for the white hospital tent with its red cross on the sides. He wanted to see his dad before anything else happened today.

0o0o0o0

Hermione was glad that Arthur was well enough to come to the meeting this morning, and from the way Charlie relaxed at the sight of his dad, this was being taken as a good sign by his children. The Weasley grandchildren had all been taken away to a day care facility, or a school depending on their age, and their parents sat around at the large communal dining table, looking cautiously at their hosts. Harry wasn't present, and repeated requests had only brought the information that he had yet to return from England.

The five people that were standing before them were a varied bunch. There was a petite woman with dark eyes and spiked hair, stylishly clad in the latest robes from Milan, which showed off her motherly curves. The blonde man that had interrupted Hermione and Ron was there, his own hair wildly untamed, his thin and lanky frame clad in Muggle clothes. A Goblin sat stolidly at the head of the table, watching them all with sharp eyes, and a couple sat comfortably together, middle aged, in genteel robes. The five people introduced themselves briefly and told the assembled family what their roles in the camp were.

"Basically, we're the reason that Harry started the City of Tents," Harding smiled and shook his head, "He was trying to keep us happy."

"And you're complaining?" Ray chuckled, "Accepting this job was probably the second best decision of my life! The boss takes care of his own, and we're not exactly living on the ragged edge out here!"

"What was the first?" Trinket asked tersely, turning his head to peer at Ray, and the blonde man rolled his eyes and waved his hand, a golden hand fasting band flashing on his wrist in the sunlight.

"Accepting Ben's marriage proposal," he informed the Goblin, who made a sound very close to retching in reply. All five of them chuckled, and the linguist of the group waved a hand to quieten them.

"The point," she stressed, "Is that this is a community, and as such it has a charter. Normally you would be inducted by the family or guild that was sponsoring you, but we thought it best not to wait for him to get back. Besides, there are several things we need you to know about our Harry, things that he might not think to tell you himself."

"Oh, _you're_ going to teach _us_ about Harry Potter?" Hermione scoffed, "This ought to be good."

"Yes, actually," Francesca glared at the bushy haired witch, and something in the glare made Charlie inch closer to her, "Because the last time you saw him he was fighting for his life, something that isn't the case now. It's been more than ten years since you knew him, and he hasn't exactly lived in a bubble all that time. Besides, I think you should at least have the chance to understand what sort of life he's built for himself and the role he plays here."

Hermione folded her arms and leaned back against Charlie, but as Francesca continued to speak, she forgot her animosity and became fascinated in the life that Harry had built here. This Francesca person was right; Harry probably wouldn't tell them about the smaller details that the Italian matriarch was including, such as his role as unofficial Mayor of the City of Tents, and deeds he had performed to ensure their safety and prosperity. The creation of his children was pure Potter, a combination of his big heart and 'saving people thing', something that he obviously hadn't grown out of. Hagrid's role in Harry's life was explained, as was Neville and Luna's. Hermione was surprised to hear that even Remus and Snape had been made a place in the burgeoning community, becoming founders of a new magical school. She hadn't been aware that they were in touch with him.

"Incredible," Arthur breathed as Francesca wound to a close, "He's done so well for himself."

"Yes he has and eight babies! Oh Arthur, we've got eight more grandchildren to meet!" Molly beamed, and her children chuckled. Molly was mad about grandchildren, and it was no secret that her hearts dearest wish was for her children to be parents of their own brood. Hermione's reluctance to become a mother had been a sore point between them, though they'd never really discussed it. She had told Charlie of her new decision last night, hence the hickey among other things, and she was happy to let nature take its course. The Weasley's were all very fertile after all; even Fleur hadn't been able to completely control her husband's ability to breach her defences.

"You'll be meeting them tonight at dinner," Elaine spoke up, smiling at the excited grandmother, "We've been having nightly communal meals since Harry left two weeks ago to release you from the Ministry. It helps reassure his children that they're not forgotten."

"Poor mites," Molly sniffed, but Hermione was frowning.

"Two weeks? He's been gone that long?" she asked and the Goblin spoke up, his eyes boring into hers.

"The Elder is no fool to go rushing in. He needed time to breach the international wards, and gather intelligence. Not to mention getting his elves to empty your properties discretely."

Hermione sat back, thinking furiously. The furniture from her flat and all of her and Charlie's belongings _had_ been neatly in the tent that Dobby had ushered her to, and she knew for a fact that her house wards were strong enough to keep the Aurors out. They had never been able to breach her home defences, but then again, they'd taken her from the shop, not her home. This little matter aside, it was Trinket's title for Harry that had her thinking. Goblin's only named Clan members Elder, and only high-ranking Clan members at that. There was more to the story of Trinket and Harry than had been told, and she wondered what it was.

"How did they get through the wards?" Bill frowned, "I mean, the furniture in our tent isn't ours, but those of us living in England…"

"No need to empty properties in France," Trinket grunted, "And Potter's elves can enter through your wards because he is your family. No family elf can be locked out from a family property unless you build a specific ward to do so, and none of you thought to."

"None of us own elves," Ron pointed out, "Well, Draco and Ginny do, but they've never left France."

"Potter does," Trinket reiterated and Ron sighed, sitting back.

"That means that Harry considers us his family," George said slowly, and then smiled brightly, mischief written in his eyes, "Our little Harrikins!"

"Yes, little Georgikins?" the voice was unexpected and there was a general outcry as Harry stepped under the awning, looking tired and worn. Before any of the Weasley's could get there, his 'team' had, patting him down and ushering him to a chair. Harding poured a cup of the juice sitting out for their 'meeting' and Harry handed a silk wrapped object to Ray.

"This is the Grimoire? You got it?" Ray sounded excited, and Trinket immediately drew his wand, pointing it at the object aggressively. Harry didn't seem surprised by the reaction, nodding wearily and sipping at his drink slowly.

"There's a blank bit of folded parchment I bought in Diagon Alley in its place. Its been concealed under the duplication spell we found at the last site Dupree ever worked on," Harry sighed, "The spell will last for only an hour once taken outside the Ministry wards, by which time it will hopefully be too late for the moron to go back and look for the real one. Any provenance spell will show the store in the Alley, so we should be free and clear. Trinket, there's a special container I want that book stored in."

"I know the one. Come on Fraser," Trinket grunted and they both hurried off. Harry took a deep breath and looked beyond his team, smiling hesitantly when he saw the gathered Weasley's.

"Hullo," he even sounded hesitant, and Molly tutted, got up and hauled him into the squashiest hug he'd probably ever had. Charlie snickered into Hermione's hair, and she smiled a little. She was pleased that Harry had returned unharmed, though by the reactions of his team he'd looked a lot healthier when he'd left. Arthur insisted on a hug next and Harry went to him, looking the head of the family over with anxious eyes before hugging him gently. Bill pulled them apart and Harry was pretty much passed from one person to the next, until Hermione and Ron were the only ones left. Hermione hugged him briefly, patting his back, still of two minds about the whole exile versus Azkaban issue, but Ron folded the dark haired man into a warm embrace and held on as if he never intended to let go. Any doubt that Ron's feelings for Harry had faded or changed as time had passed died in that hug; all that remained to be seen was if Harry still felt the same way.

Eventually the Healer that had checked them all over prised Harry from Ron's arms, insisting on looking him over personally, and Harry agreed wearily, requesting that his children be brought to his tent when school ended so he could catch up with them before dinner. He spent a few minutes consulting with his team, the Healer holding him by the elbow and fidgeting impatiently, and then followed the Italian meekly to the hospital tent.

Dobby appeared and offered to usher Molly and Arthur to their tent, and Molly agreed, helping Arthur to his feet over his protests and herding him along. Charlie chuckled in Hermione's hair and the rest of the family made noises about going back to their own tents as well. Hermione had wanted to have a word with Harry, but her husband had other ideas, and herded her into their tent and onto the couch. It was obvious from the very beginning that he didn't have sitting down and conversing in mind.

"This really is an ugly piece of furniture," Charlie muttered, and Hermione arched into his touch, kissing along his jaw to the nearest ear quite hungrily.

"You weren't complaining last night," she murmured and wriggled a hand between them. He gasped and opened his thighs to give her more room.

"Closest soft surface," Charlie explained and then stopped talking in order to concentrate on what they were doing. Hermione had no complaints about that, though silence was impossible towards the end.

Eventually their breathing slowed and conversation was possible again. Hermione had hit the 'door' of their tent with a privacy spell, and she wasn't too concerned that someone would wander in while they were both in the buff. Charlie had her cradled on his chest, as was his wont, and she was quite content to relax against him, a luxury that had been denied them for some time.

"My own, I have to know," Charlie sighed, in his 'I know I shouldn't ask but I'm going to anyway' tone, "Why did you expect Harry not to take the exile?"

Damn her husband and his knowledge of her ways. In moments like this she'd answer just about any question put to her, and he knew it. His adaptation of Ron's nickname for her, 'Mione, always got beneath her defences as well. Hermione lifted her head to glare at him, even as her mouth opened.

"Because he didn't trust us! We'd have gotten him out of there! We'd have found a way to get the Ministry to take back their stupid ruling! But he ran instead, and we were left being watched every minute of every day… practically prisoners in our own homes!"

"Surely you know that you'd never have bested the Ministry, sweetheart! If they'd locked him up he'd still be there!" Charlie protested, "I know that his absence made it easier for the Ministry to brand him a Dark Lord – he wasn't there to defend himself, or us – but there was no way we'd have ever gotten him out of the clutches of Azkaban. They'd have broken him, made him into a weapon they could use and then blame!"

Hermione shook her head and put her face in the crook of his neck, tears spilling from her eyes. A part of her knew that what Charlie was saying was true, but at the same time, she was still smarting over the lack of faith that Harry had shown in them. They'd risked their lives and sanity at his word, and in return, he'd abandoned them to the tender 'mercies' of the Ministry.

"We'd have come up with something!" she muttered stubbornly, "He should have trusted us…"

"Oh my own," Charlie sighed, but didn't press the issue any further, cuddling her close and rubbing her bare back.

0o0o0o0

Next – getting to know the new you… some explanations are in order and Ron is the man to get them!

Further Author's note – if you go back and look carefully I never said directly that Ron and Hermione were married… I just implied it to keep you people guessing! Did it work?


	3. Chapter 3

0o0o0o0

Disclaimer – still don't own them…

0o0o0o0

**Severus and Ron**

0o0o0o0

The day after Potter's rescue of the Weasley's the school Founders managed to get five minutes of the so called 'Mayor of Tent City' time to concentrate on the more important aspects of daily life. What was the point, Severus mused, in refusing to go to the aid of the British Ministry, if the man then turned around and interfered anyway? He may as well hire himself out to the deceitful old coots and have done with it. Remus approved of Potter's actions, naturally, and Severus had been forced to concede that leaving the Weasley's under the Ministry's control was very dangerous. They were valuable bargaining chips, and Potter could be forced into an untenable situation because of them. However, the removal of the current Dark Lord's main target was just asking for trouble in Severus' opinion.

Potter was looking rather tired, but he moved with confidence and energy despite the small limp, so Severus wasn't overly concerned. Remus was fretting, but then again the werewolf fretted over many things, and under certain conditions, Severus didn't mind it. The warm look and pat to the arm his lover received seemed to alleviate the worst of the werewolf's worry, and Severus felt sure that Remus would seek Potter out at some point over the next few days to check his health. Severus had pointed out how illogical the brat's actions were – Potter had survived without them for years, and would likely continue to survive if they decided to retire from teaching and live elsewhere. Severus knew his lover well enough not to suggest that they leave any time soon, Remus would simply pine away. He'd made a very difficult choice once, and Severus was far too cunning to force him to remake that choice.

Potter settled into the empty seat, not at all interested in positioning himself at the end of a table, so as to command it. Severus appreciated that, as he would have had to move Remus to do so – there was no way that Severus would have moved – and that would have undermined the werewolf in front of his newest colleagues. The brat was once more dressed in casual Muggle clothes, ones that looked worn and comfortable. Despite his faintly tired look, he was the picture of health and strength, which just proved that the werewolf was worrying unduly. Unfortunately, that was one of his faults and Severus had come to tolerate it over the course of their relationship, especially once he had ascertained that hexing didn't work.

The usual pleasantries passed, and Potter was surprisingly modest about his unprecedented one-man assault upon the British Ministry of Magic. Apparently, the man had learned some modicum of tactical planning, as he'd taken advantage of the ascendant Dark Lord's attack to slip into the Ministry, complete his task, and slip out. Potter was not at all interested in expanding upon that summary, and Severus couldn't agree more that now was not the time and place for such a discussion. Let the brat blow his own horn on his own time.

"We've got the school ethos and mission statement worked out," Remus informed Severus' current cross to bear, a smile lurking in his damned eyes, "And of course we've got the curriculum firmly in hand, what we're currently attempting to finalise is how the children are to get their wands."

"There is _no_ wand maker in camp," Master Julius pouted. He was rather too flamboyant for Severus' tastes, and seemed to think that because his mastery was in Charms he needed to be overly 'charming' in the sense of personality. Severus had thankfully been spared dealing with the man for more than short stretches of time, as his lover had aptly deduced that prolonged exposure would result in hexes. Remus was very good at dealing with annoying people, an excellent trait in a lover.

"Naturally there isn't," Potter surprised him, clasping his hands on the tabletop. They were in the tent that would serve as a classroom for all but herbology and potions. The idea was to have a tent per year group, with the Masters moving in and out of it as they were required by the timetable. Magic would allow them to have a desk that remembered which master had which texts, accessories and aides, depending upon the magical signature of the wand that was tapped to it, and locked by a password. Eventually they'd have seven tents, not including the potions and herbology tent, designed to cater to the seven different levels. Children would naturally board with their parents, and said parents would also supervise homework, mealtimes and weekends. The school tent was already set up, with desks, cupboards, and such, and for their meeting they had put the desks into a group. The presence of skylights was an advantage over windows, as students couldn't gaze out of them, and Severus had consented to a carefully screened set in the potions laboratory as well, in which he would be teaching.

"The primary business of this camp is cursed artefacts and substances," Potter continued, his tone eminently reasonable and calm. Severus distrusted that sort of tone on pure principal. He'd worked with a man who could make just about anything sound reasonable and justifiable, and what few points of honour he had left were down to his own bloody-minded resistance of that tone.

"To allow a wand maker free access to such materials is simply too much of a risk. There is no sure fire way to guarantee that the wand maker would not in some way abuse or misuse his position to gain access to such materials. Naturally, my team and I are very careful, but we are not accustomed to operating under constant war footing," Potter shrugged and spread his hands, "Chances are that these fears are completely groundless, but I don't want the creation of an abomination on my head."

"Technically, Potter, you shouldn't have access to any of these materials either," some imp prompted Severus to point out, and when Remus' outraged eyes met his, he winced internally, knowing he was in for quite the lecture when he got home. Potter's status as a declared Dark Lord was surely a sore point, and possibly not common knowledge around the camp; though how anyone could be unaware of _that_ particular part of Potter's life was beyond Severus. The international press had carried the story for some time after his exile.

"True," Potter laughed it off, not a single tone or nuance ringing false, "There's an entire country that would be horrified to know that I am able to access Dark and cursed materials whenever I want. To answer your question, I have taken the advice of a friend in the international court, and it would be best if your students were to get their wands from the country of their birth, as they are legally entitled to do. If for some reason that is not possible, then they should do so in the country of their parents birth, and if that is still not possible, then the country that they are currently residing in. The school should have a form stating their enrolment, and have the school's device affixed to the form with the appropriate counterfeit and copy prevention charms and wards attached."

"Won't that be difficult for those families with children born in different countries?" Julius spoke up, a slight moue to his lips, "After all, I am led to understand that some families here have children born in multiple countries."

"I'd have to go to Italy, France, Germany, Canada, Spain and Peru," Potter reeled the list off with a casual shrug, "In fact I'd have to go to Germany twice. If you make it abundantly clear to your prospective parents that such arrangements will have to be made, so they can adjust their schedules according to their work and responsibilities accordingly. Speaking for those employed by Gringott's that won't be a problem."

"Then we shall do so," Severus announced, and that was that. He had the deciding vote, and did not wish to prolong the debate. Before anyone could say anything else the tent flaps opened without ceremony, pushed aside by a Goblin.

"Potter, Argent is entering her labours," the Goblin announced and Potter stood immediately. He bowed to the table of masters, made his apologies and left in the wake of the Goblin, leaving Severus to wonder what role the brat could possibly play in the arrival of a new Goblin child.

"We'll be given the opportunity to be present for the Welcoming ceremony;" Julius smiled rather vapidly, "Harry has such a gorgeous set of robes. The babe's parents will present it to him, they all say a bit of Gobbledegook, then he introduces the babe to the camp, and we all shout 'welcome'. It's got something to do with Harry being the Elder of the Clan here, and I'm not quite sure how that happened. I don't know much about Goblins, I'm afraid."

"You will likely be teaching one, once it comes of age," Remus informed the Charms Master in a cool tone, "Perhaps you should do some research."

Although he was the one to mainly deal with him, Remus didn't like Julius much either. The man had the front to state that he liked listening to the 'darkly sensuous' tones of Severus' voice whilst in the werewolf's earshot, which had made his lover quite possessive. Severus had thoroughly enjoyed several nights' worth of reaction to the comment, and was wondering if he could lead the man on in order to further fuel those fires.

The meeting adjourned once they had finalised the wording relating to purchase of wands and school supplies, as well as drafting the forms to go with such. The charms that Potter had spoken of had a particular legal form for the international courts, and the school would have to commission a proper seal that would allow the specific spells to be woven into the forms from an accredited sigils master. They had been allocated a budget to do so, and it was with no small amount of glee that Julius was assigned that task. This had the added bonus of getting him back into Remus' favour after his remark about Potter and his access to cursed and Dark artefacts.

By the time the meeting wrapped up, the newest member of the camp had apparently made significant progress, and the school Masters were informed that their presence would be appropriate. Remus was of course excited by the idea of welcoming a new life to the camp, and Severus couldn't deny that being seen to do so would be beneficial to their standings. He allowed his lover to charm both of their robes fresh and then led the man forth into the late afternoon sun. It was not difficult to locate the tent in question, and some subtle looks got them front row positions.

Potter was facing the tent, standing before a stone chair that was quite elegant. It was not at all throne like, but the brat's position in front of it clearly stated that the chair was his. Potter was dressed in a set of robes that even Severus had to admit were impressive, and his stance and calm expression gave him the air of a man, and one of some importance. For once in his life, Potter's bearing and appearance matched his status and personal power, and the effect was akin to a slap in the face. Severus did not like to dwell upon the true amount of power and control that Potter now exercised in his daily life.

The tent opened and a Goblin woman appeared with a bowl of smoking herbs. She was followed by another Goblin woman in bright red, carrying an unsheathed knife and a small child bearing another bowl of herbs, unlit. Then the one called Trinket appeared, babe in arms, armour shining brightly. Once the other three were properly arranged, he handed the babe over to Potter, speaking Gobbledegook the entire time. Potter cradled the child in his hands with a practised ease, then turned and lifted it to the assembled crowd. Severus spotted the crowd of redheads, and closer to Potter the eight children that he had borne.

"Bullion!" he announced, and Severus almost snorted at the name. He was too controlled to do so, and called welcome with the rest of the assembly, then shuffled obediently into line to walk past and congratulate the parents. Potter conjured a chair for the mother, who Severus assumed was Argent, and he watched as people stepped along, gushing to the parents and Elder about the arrival of the baby girl.

Potter's own Heir produced a small golden chain, which was solemnly presented to the baby, and brought forth a quick tide of Gobbledegook in response. Both parents seemed immensely pleased, as were the other Goblins present, so the Elder had apparently done well in the choice of birth gift. Severus watched as Potter's children were ushered away and concealed a small smile at the slightly dismayed sound from the Weasley brood. He had been pleased to see Arthur on his feet to welcome Bullion, and surmised that Potter had broken the patriarch's curse.

The lack of boasting on that front was yet another marker in the changes that had occurred in Potter during his exile. Severus was coming to the dismayed realisation that the brat had developed into someone worth knowing.

0o0o0o0

Ron had been disappointed not to have a chance to meet all of Harry's children at the welcoming ceremony, though he supposed that it wasn't quite the place for such things. He'd heard both his mother and father, who had regained almost all of his colour already and was looking quite the new man, make a softly disappointed noise when the Potter children were taken off, and had to swallow a smile. They all wanted to meet the Potter family, but mostly they all wanted to see Harry. His exile and their separation stood between them, and Ron wanted to clear the air.

In the light of the Welcoming ceremony there was quite a feast that evening, with dancing and games afterwards. Harry didn't stay long, ushering his children firmly off to bed despite their protests. He'd spent the meal sitting with his team, and Ron was beginning to wonder if Harry had rescued them out of a sense of duty rather than love. He didn't seem to be in any rush to reacquaint himself with the Weasley family at all. Ron saw that as a faintly ominous thing, and was determined not to let another night pass without seeking Harry out.

It wasn't hard to relocate his tent, and find Harry's from there. The dark blue awning and gold fringe were the only one in the camp, and he ducked inside without calling out first, which was against what the City charter had instructed. He knew it wasn't the polite thing to do, but didn't want to interrupt Harry in the midst of putting his children to bed. He needn't have worried about that, as Harry was sitting alone in the main room, a surprised look on his face and a cup of tea in one hand. The surprise changed to a cautious smile and Ron smiled back.

"I would have yelled, but…"

"You would have woken them," Harry shook his head, his voice deliberately low; "I've got the sound suppression spells down as they're a little unsettled at the moment. They don't like it when I leave them behind, and I've been away quite a few times this month what with one thing and another. Tea?"

Ron nodded and Dobby popped up with a teacup for him, beaming happily and shooing him onto the couch, to sit on the end nearest Harry. Harry poured the tea and then settled back, the book that had been on his lap shut and deposited onto the low table.

"Are you avoiding us?" Ron asked baldly. Hermione would have been more subtle, but then again Hermione was unlikely to seek Harry out until she'd gotten over her idea about saving Harry from Azkaban if he'd stayed in Britain. Harry snorted into his cup of tea, his knees drawn up to his chest. Anyone else would have thought he was sitting comfortably, but Ron knew that Harry was barricading himself in, looking for protection. Even after all these years Harry wasn't that hard to read, to someone who knew him. Ron didn't make the mistake of assuming that Harry was completely unchanged, after all he was the single parent of eight children, but the _core_ of him, the essential Harry-ness had endured the test of time and exile mostly untouched.

"Sort of," Harry admitted reluctantly, "I'd prefer to give Arthur…"

"Dad, Harry," Ron reminded him firmly, "Don't make him tell you again."

"…Dad time to recover," Harry nodded in acknowledgement of the correction, "The children are a little rowdy, and I didn't want to overtire him with them. It looked like M-mum could do with a rest too. Besides, they're spending the day with all of your nieces and nephews, so I figured that would do for the time being."

"You must know that we want to see you as much as your kids, Harry. What else is holding you back?" Ron asked determinedly. Harry had changed in the last ten years, and so had Ron, but he still knew when his friend wasn't telling the whole story. The clues were very subtle, but they were still there. Harry glared at him briefly, and then sipped his tea in a delaying tactic.

"It didn't work," the words were hard to hear, but Ron would have used an extendable ear if necessary, "Everything was supposed to go back to normal after I left."

"That's a bit simplistic don't you think?" Ron retorted, "Not to mention overly optimistic. Harry, the Ministry was never going to just let it lie."

"They said they would," Harry argued, "And I … I still trusted Dumbledore. You and Hermione and Ginny had to finish your schooling, and then I thought that you'd come visit me or something. But Dumbledore signed off on the death warrant for me, declaring me a rogue the day that Ginny graduated. I couldn't come back, and if I'd contacted you at all…"

"Conniving rotten bastard!" Ron hissed, mindful of the sleeping children, hidden behind the coloured curtains that dotted the walls of the main living space, "Harry, there was no way I could leave… I couldn't afford to travel, and then the Ministry also made it so hard for me to so much as Apparate across a county that it was just untrue! Once I left school, I was lucky enough to be offered an apprenticeship as a broom wright, and by the time I'd established myself Dad had been cursed, and we've spent the last two years taking care of him and mum…"

"It's ok," Harry bit his lip, "I got to see Bill for a bit when I was pregnant with May, and Hagrid sent me what little news he got from Minerva."

"McGonagall? She was in contact with you?" Ron gaped, "But she was Hermione's business partner, and mentor for her Mastery in Transfiguration!"

"She didn't tell me that," Harry sighed, "And I only saw her the once as well, the week that Hagrid graduated from Beaubaxtons. She organised for Bill to see me for that hug…"

"That was… Harry he was so… I mean Bill hated coming home, he really did. The Ministry were such pains in the arse about his travels and everything. There was no way that Mum and Dad could leave the country, the Ministry had seen to that, and so we only saw Bill and his lot once a year. That year though, he was eager to be here, which made a nice change. The first dinner when we were all together he made us line up and then hugged every single one of us, then said he was passing it on… We knew he meant you right away, but the wards on the Burrow weren't strong enough any more, so talking about you openly just wasn't on. Dad cried…"

Harry looked to be crying now, and Ron shut up, wiping at his own face, waiting for his friend to get it back under control. It didn't take long, Harry took a long shuddery breath and wiped his face kind of defiantly, sitting up and pouring more tea into his mug before topping up Ron's cup. Dobby pattered in with a plate of biscuits, looking worried with another house elf in tow, who had a nose like a squashed tomato. It took a moment for Ron to recognise Winky, she looked so different to the pitiful state she'd been in the last time he'd seen her. They both gave Harry a hug and he hugged them back, murmuring low words to them before they pattered away again.

"Sorry," they muttered at the same time, and Ron gave his friend a tentative grin. Harry grinned as well and shifted from his armchair to the couch, curling up comfortably like he had in the common room at Hogwarts. Ron toed off his own shoes and did the same. Hermione used to accuse them of gossiping like old women; now it was a comforting link to their common past.

"So you're a broom wright?" Harry asked and Ron nodded, grinning a little sheepishly. He'd always loved brooms and Quidditch, and there was no way he was going to depend on the Ministry for a job.

"Flitwick recommended me to a mate of his. She'd got a Mastery in Charms, and consulted for Nimbus now and then. My marks were good enough, so it took me only four years to get my own mastery," Ron revealed, "I wanted to leave and come find you, but I still didn't have the money. If I'd left illegally, it would have made things hot for mum and dad, so I had to stay and work, and of course, the Ministry was difficult about everything. They kept pulling surprise inspections on my workshop to ensure I wasn't building you an army of hexed brooms or something. By the time I could afford to leave, Dad had been cursed, and that was that."

"I should have realised it was something like that," Harry sighed, "I thought… that maybe you'd … been glad to see the back of me."

"No," Ron reached over and grabbed Harry's shoulder without thinking, and Harry shrugged, looking down into his stained cup. It had 'daddy' in wonky letters on the side, and Ron thought it was probably a gift from one of the sleeping children. Little things like this pointed so strongly to the happy life that Harry had made for himself, but Ron now knew that he and his family had been sorely missed. That knowledge explained why Harry was a little diffident in coming forward, as did Harry's next remark.

"I got you and Hermione into a lot of trouble, and danger," Harry's tone was difficult, "I thought that maybe after a few years of peace you'd realised that you were… well, better off."

"Harry, that was never it," Ron shook his friend a little, "It was my pride as much as anything. I didn't want to leave without a profession or my financial independence at least. So I worked hard, really hard, so that I could come to you on an equal footing. And before you say that wasn't important, I know that you don't care about that kind of stuff, but I do Harry. I wanted to prove, to myself mostly, that I didn't need to rely on any outsider to make my way in the world."

"Ok," Harry nodded and then looked up sharply. A soft noise sounded and he was up in a flash, putting his mug down and heading for one of the curtains. Ron realised a child was crying and put down his teacup, following Harry across the room without a second thought. Behind the curtain was a dim space with twin beds and the usual bedroom furniture, painted in bright colours. There was a large skylight, and each bed had curtains to allow the sleeper to block out the star shine.

Harry pulled back one set of curtains, and made a low soothing noise, reaching out for the occupant of the bed. The child squealed and kicked out, slapping and struggling away from its father, but Harry didn't relent on the soft noise at all, reaching out patiently and ignoring the blows landing on him. The curtains of the other bed rustled back, and the child that had identified himself as Davy stuck his tousled head out, worry etched on his face. Ron moved from the door to his side, and Davy reached up a hand, tugging Ron to sit down on the edge of the bed and then cuddling in close.

"Jimmy has bad dreams," Davy confided, "It always takes Daddy a while to break him out of them."

Looking more closely, Ron could see that the redhead – who was evidently called Jimmy – had his eyes open wide, staring at an unseen horror. His soft cries had turned into half articulated words, and Harry was crooning back softly, offering reassurance. Jimmy's reaction reminded Ron strongly of the nightmares that Harry himself had suffered through his link to Voldemort; though he knew intellectually that wasn't the case here. Harry had suffered night terrors so badly towards the end of the war that sleep deprivation had begun to affect his health. Upon the families' arrival in Harry's secluded camp they'd been informed that Harry had adopted two of his children after rescuing them from an abusive parent, and it seemed that the eldest of the two was afflicted with nightmares of that time.

Ron found he was rubbing Davy's back as they watched Harry finally contain his son and hold him close, rocking back and forth and almost singing in his ear. Jimmy was still struggling fitfully, then gave a huge gasp and shuddered hard, collapsing into his dad's chest.

"You're alright, Jimmy, it's all over now," Harry said softly, not stopping his soothing motions, "Breathe for me, son, just breathe slow and deep."

Jimmy looked bewildered, and Ron realised that he'd woken up and was unsure what was going on. He slowed his breathing as directed and snuggled in against Harry, peace stealing over his face as his father comforted him. It was such a natural response, one that spoke of complete trust and love that Ron had to look away for a moment. Davy sighed in relief as well and Ron hugged him closer for a moment, smiling down at dark blue eyes.

"Daddy?" Jimmy asked after a moment and Harry made an affirmative noise in his hair, "It was a Blue Dream."

Davy gasped and wriggled out of Ron's hug to patter over to his brother. Harry shifted on the bed so that both boys were cuddled up to him and just held on. Jimmy gave off a muffled sob, which Harry hushed, tightening his grip. Ron wondered what the hell a Blue Dream was, though even he could hear the capital letters attached to that particular name.

"In it… there was a m-man… and he had h-hair like m-mine… and everything else w-was b-blue… and D-Davy was… he was d-dead! He was d-dead… d-daddy and the… the m-man… he was … he was p-pulling all the b-blue out of you… and … then you were d-dead too!" Jimmy stuttered, gasped, and burst into tears, and Ron got up and went to soothe Davy, who looked as terrified as his brother. Harry was solely focussed on the almost hysterical Jimmy, and Dobby appeared with a pop, holding two vials of potion in his hands. Between them, man and elf fed the potions to Jimmy, and Winky appeared with one for Davy, who let Ron feed it to him.

It took a while, but eventually the children were calm enough to drift back to sleep, cuddled up to each other. Winky clambered up onto the foot of the bed while Harry conjured a blanket and pillow for her, helping her establish a comfortable nest from which to watch the potioned children. He led Ron back into the main room and then held up a hand requesting patience as he ducked outside the tent. Moments later a powerful wave of magic washed gently over Ron, bringing with it a feeling of protection and care. He fell onto the couch behind him with a breathless thump and ran a hand through his hair.

"Ok?" Harry's hand on his shoulder made him jump, but he nodded and watched his friend settle onto the couch beside him, a tense look on his face.

"I've put the camps wards onto full alert," Harry explained, "That might be what you felt."

"Is he a seer?" Ron asked, his eyes wide, "What he calls Blue Dreams are visions?"

"Not really," Harry looked so sad for a moment that Ron just had to reach out and hug him. Harry didn't seem to mind, relaxing into Ron's embrace, little shivers of tension bleeding out of him until his body was calm. Ron was very proud that he could still do this for his friend, something he'd learnt to do in the aftermath of Harry's own nightmares.

"Jim is… spell damaged," Harry's tone was difficult and hurt, "That bastard of a birth father…"

The green-eyed man sat up and took off his glasses for a moment, wiping at his eyes. He put the metal frames back on and squared his shoulders, looking at Ron with his heart in his face.

"The… Hans Gustav bore two children himself, using a prostitute from Germany as an unwilling donor," his voice was low and matter of fact, but Ron could see that by revealing this Harry felt he was risking Ron's rejection of two of his beloved children and knew better than to interrupt with reassurances at just this moment. It wasn't likely that Harry would believe him anyway, not until the tale was fully told, "Gustav fancied himself an independent curse breaker, though he was little more than a grave robber, and his children played a cruel part in his successes. When I met them, their names were Canary and Spare. Gustav sent my Jimmy into tombs and structures to see what magic was active in the area. He wasn't always prompt or thorough about removing the curses, hexes and jinxes that Jimmy was afflicted with, and that has resulted in permanent spell damage."

"Hells harpies," Ron breathed, "That poor kid!"

"Lily, his sister, was too young for such uses, and was spared the damage," Harry sighed, "Though once she'd grown enough to have been able to talk properly he'd have started using her as well. Part of Jim's spell damage is these Blue Dreams, as he calls them. He has normal nightmares, and sometimes I don't even wake for those, because Davy cuddles with him and they go back to sleep. But the others… as near as I can explain it, he dreams in metaphors and symbols. So far, the dreams have come true. Maybe one day they won't. Davy being dead might actually mean something else entirely. Maybe they're going to have a huge fight in the next few days."

"And the man with hair like his? The one that pulls all the colour out of you?" Ron asked, and Harry smiled. Ron found that a little odd, though Harry's next words explained himself

"Maybe I'll have a fight with one of you, maybe even with you, Ron. I'd feel pretty colourless if you all decided to pack up and leave right now, before I'd had a chance to apologise to you properly. I hurt you and your family by running away and leaving you to the Ministry. Part of me thinks I should have stayed and fought. If I had though… if I had, I'd not be here, with children to love, a team to cherish and work to challenge me. No matter what else, I can't regret that I am here, living my life. I _don't_ regret it."

"And so you shouldn't," Ron whispered, "As for the rest of that rubbish you just spouted… well, wait until mum gets hold of you."

Harry chuckled, and Ron smiled wanly back before getting up and taking his reluctant leave. He still didn't know where he stood in Harry's life now, but they'd at least made a connection here tonight. That was a start.

0o0o0o0

Next – flamboyance is a way of life, and he does it so well…


	4. Chapter 4

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Disclaimer – I checked… but I still don't own them!

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**Remus and Ray**

0o0o0o0

Severus was unable to settle down once they felt the wards to the camp change. Remus was rather annoyed about that – his lover was cranky enough without adding sleep deprivation to the mix. Neither of them was getting any younger, and although no one expected them to go out and fight a war the next day, he had come to appreciate the benefits of a full nights sleep. Severus said he was going soft, and that was a challenge that Remus had been unwilling to let pass, which had led to further sleep deprivation.

Hence their late appearance that morning. There were no meetings scheduled for that day, and they had both planned to spend at least part of it speaking to potential students and their families. There was also a mountain of paperwork to be done, and Severus hated paperwork at the best of times. The adult Weasley's were gathered in the communal dining area, and it looked as if they were waiting for someone, because the whole family glanced up when they spotted movement from Remus' direction.

Severus was curious, Remus always felt that if his lover had an animagus form it would be a cat, and he followed along peaceably as the man went to find out what was going on. It wasn't the whole family, Remus realised, and Ron was missing still. Remus was unsure if that was a good sign or not: Ron could be absent because he was with Harry, or Ron could be absent because Harry had rejected him.

"We don't know," Fred, or possibly George shrugged in response to the pointed question from his lover, "We all had a note asking us to meet here and Ron knew what was going on."

"Have you seen Harry?" Remus asked, and received several disappointed shakes of the head. It seemed that Harry was still avoiding his family, something that made Remus quite sad. He didn't want to think that his godson had merely rescued them out of a sense of obligation. He didn't dare to raise the issue with Severus, certain that any conversation about Harry's motives would end in a furious row. Severus Snape was not a man to change his mind about a person quickly, and Remus was resigned to waiting him out, much as he'd had to do at the beginning of their relationship.

"Arthur, you're looking well," Severus commented neutrally, and the family all smiled, relief clearly showing in their expressions. The death of Arthur would have been a terrible blow to the family, especially under the circumstances. Bill's inability to break the curse would also have had several devastating repercussions. In the few conversations he and Severus had about the Weasley's situation Severus had indicated that he felt the Ministry of Magic were planning to declare that Bill had allowed his father to die in order to become Head of the Family, which would have destroyed that branch of the Weasley family tree as effectively as a killing curse.

"I feel tip top," Arthur confirmed, "My magic is stronger every day, and there hasn't been the slightest bit of illness ever since I got here."

"That's good news," Remus smiled, and the crowd stirred again as Ron joined them. Remus had noted the youngest son had come from the direction of Harry's tent, and chose to take that as a good sign. The twins fired off a thousand questions at once, and Ron simply folded his arms and waited until they were quiet, something that no one else in the family had learned to do. Not even Arthur could withstand the twins in that mood, but somewhere along the way, Ron had taught himself to hunker down and let it all wash over him.

"Well?" Severus snapped, and Ron slanted a bland look in his former Potion Master's direction, much to Severus' well-concealed disappointment. It seemed that the days when his lover could inspire obedience in Ron with _that_ tone were long gone. Remus concealed a smile and waited patiently, something he was a master at doing.

"Last night, there was a… development that has changed the wards footing," Ron said quietly, and then proceeded to explain the spell damage that James Remus Potter had suffered at the hands of his birth father. Remus was horrified to hear the tale, and even Severus looked unsettled at the idea that a child be forced to suffer through torments and terrors in such a fashion.

"Harry wants Jimmy to meet you all, so that he can see that none of us were the redhead in his dreams. Right now he's terrified that one of us will kill Davy and his Dad," Ron concluded, "Harry thinks it best that we do this while the rest of his children are at school or the communal day care."

"And Potter put the wards up to a higher level because the boy is not a Seer?" Severus snorted and Ron shook his head, rolling his eyes. Remus wondered how many times his lover had seen that expression on the redheads face, as the man was _clearly_ itching to take points off, something that was still a habit ingrained by long years of service at Hogwarts. It added spice to their arguments.

"Harry put the wards up because the dreams caused by the spell damage are usually accurate," Ron replied, "And it would give the rest of the camp a forewarning that there is something in the works. Jimmy's only had three of these dreams, but each one of them has been proven."

Any further discussion was quelled by the appearance of Harry himself, his two eldest sons at his side. Jimmy was pale and shaking, clutching his father and brother in each hand and looking fearfully over at the crowd, as if the man in his dreams was going to leap out and start killing. Davy looked a little unnerved as well and Severus snorted, before sweeping over to the two children. He ignored Harry completely, as was now his wont, and bent down, speaking to Jimmy softly. Remus couldn't hear what his lover was saying, but Harry nodded his agreement and Jimmy looked a little less like he was about to collapse when Severus stepped around behind the trio and walked along in cadence.

"Jimmy, you remember Ron," Harry's voice was completely calm and collected, and Ron crouched down to Jimmy's level. The young boy scrutinised him closely and then nodded, muttering a weak hello. One by one Harry introduced the Weasley's, including their spouses in the introduction, making the meeting mundane instead of portentous. Remus watched with pleased pride as Harry soothed his son without resorting to overt measures, and by the time Jimmy was ensconced on his grandfather's lap, his older brother sitting on his grandmother's knee, the colour had begun to creep back into his face.

Harry sat nearby, keeping an eye on his boys, but allowed them to spend time with their newly arrived grandparents. He was listening to the rest of the Weasley brood as they caught him up on their news, Bill and Ginny talking about France, and the twins about their business in Hogsmede. He asked very few questions, and certainly didn't inquire after mutual acquaintances. Remus thought it odd, until he realised that to Harry, the people still in Britain were as good as dead. There was no point torturing himself over the lives of the people he'd left behind, and while that might have seemed callous to some, Remus recognised it for the survival instinct it clearly was.

Severus looked a little impatient, and Remus was about to reluctantly take his leave when two shadows cut across the roof of the communal area, causing everyone to look up in surprise. There was a shrill, commanding cry, and two Hippogriff's wheeled over the camp before coming in for a landing. The smaller of the two was a very pretty white with wings of grey, and the larger a darker blue-grey with two bright white feathers. Both Harry and his children smiled in pleasure and Remus watched Davy and Jimmy wriggle down and trot out after their father. The large blue-grey Hippogriff had a limp, much like Harry did, and he swept it an easy bow, which prompted it to nibble on his hair gently and nudge him upright. Davy and Jimmy held their bows for a bit longer, but they were both nibbled on as well, a familiarity that spoke of a long association.

"Hello Brightfeather," Harry sounded pleased to see the beast, scratching at his neck in a companionable manner, "I wasn't expecting to see you away from the flight for a while."

"I wonder why not," Severus muttered in Remus' ear and the werewolf shrugged. Even with his teams briefing there was a lot about Harry that they didn't know and had yet to figure out. The tormented teen had given way to a new person, and with any new acquaintance, it would take some time to truly get to know them.

Brightfeather clacked his beak, then stooped his head, and grabbed Harry's shirt. Before anyone could draw their wand, let alone call a warning, Harry was flung through the air, landing on the back of the smaller white and grey Hippogriff. The young mare snorted and danced under the unexpected weight, threatening to throw Harry off. He sat her movements easily though, holding on without pulling her feathers or seeming worried. Davy and Jimmy were both gaping at the sight, and when she finally settled they gave quiet cheers of congratulations.

"Look, Nan! Greywings has never been ridden before!" Davy called over, pride clearly visible on his face. Moments later he was squeaking in surprise as he was tossed onto the stallions back, followed a moment later by Jimmy. Brightfeather gave a commanding call and lurched forward, running hard for his take off. Remus watched in awe as Harry leaned forward and urged his untested mount in the stallion's wake, gaining the air and flattening himself to her back.

"I see he hasn't lost his penchant for showing off," Severus sneered and Remus sighed, giving his lover a disappointed look. He hated it when Severus ran Harry down in such a fashion. Harry had made such a point of simply ignoring the old hostility and history between the two of them, but it wasn't in Severus' nature. Remus knew better than to complain though, and he knew his lover wouldn't change his behaviour. He'd known what he was getting into when he'd started a physical relationship with Severus, and he did love the man. Severus loved him too, something that was shown daily in a thousand caustic comments and grumpy gestures. To an outsider it may seem like a form of abuse, but Remus knew it for what it was.

"I can't believe he let the beast just throw his children around like that!" Hermione scolded, "I mean, how irresponsible can you get?"

"Oh please, Mrs Weasley," Severus snapped at once in one of his trademark mercurial changes, "It is obvious that the beast knows Potter well and there is a high level of rapport there. If Potter is truly breaking in members of the stallion's flight, then the level of trust between them is enormous. The children are obviously included in this level of trust."

"Besides, Harry and Hippogriff's go way back, remember Hermione? He was the one that Buckbeak let close enough to fly with, back in Hagrid's class in third year," Ron reminded his school chum and she sniffed in disdain. She didn't say anything else though, and Remus was a little saddened to see that the friendship between Ron and Hermione had cooled.

He had hoped to see the Trio back together again, the close rapport they'd built in Hogwarts returned to its former glory. Obviously, this was not to be. Severus had been in quite close contact with Minerva once they'd both left Hogwarts, and he had mentioned once or twice that Hermione's attitude on the subject of Harry Potter was not what it once had been. He was pulled, quite literally, from his musing by Severus' announcement that they had 'better things to do' and followed the hand caught in his robes obediently, making his farewells as he went.

He didn't mind Severus tugging him along, it was the closest to a public display of affection that he was likely to get from his lover.

0o0o0o0

With the wards on a heightened footing, Ray was spending a lot more time acting as a courier between Harry and the various Guilds in the camp. The camp was not unused to such things occurring, mainly because Harry usually heightened the wards and then hurried off to go and deal with whatever the international agency that kept borrowing him had asked for. The fact that he was still here made people a little uncomfortable, and Ray and Ben were keeping an especially close eye on their own children as a result. The cause of the heightened wards was something that had grieved the team tremendously.

The news that little Jimmy Potter had suffered permanent spell damage had been a terrible blow to all of them. There had been a sense of pride among the team for their rescue and assistance in the nurturing of the two waifs. Armando had been livid that the boy's biological father had treated him so badly, and anxious checks on Lily showed that her brother had borne the brunt of the hexes, jinxes and curses their first 'carer' had exposed them to. Harry had taken the news resolutely in stride. He refused to see Jim as anything other than his son, and the night terrors that the boy suffered from were treated tenderly and calmly, Ray's boss showing a patience and understanding that was nothing short of phenomenal.

When Harry and the Goblins had first dealt with Gustav, Ray and Ben had debated adopting the two children themselves. It had been readily apparent that Harry was the 'father of choice' in Jim's eyes, and the Potter children had been very welcoming to their new siblings. Ray's own children were firm friends with the 'Potter Herd' and if Ben sometimes looked a little wistful when Jim ran to show his father something, or a giggling Lily threw her arms around Harry's leg, then it was understandable. Ben wanted a large family, but Ray had demanded that they space their children out by years instead of months. Harry might not have had much of a choice about when his children were conceived, but Ray did; Ben didn't need to put himself under the same stress that Harry had.

That stress had left permanent marks upon Harry. He was thinner than he should be, and Ray had spotted hints of weariness in his bosses face when Harry thought no one was looking. His boss was stubbornly independent, determined to manage his children, his team and his work without external assistance, though he was better about accepting help than he had been. Ray had also been aware of the small flashes of jealousy directed at his spouse, usually occurring when Ray had supported or soothed Ben through a pregnancy. He knew that Harry had loved someone back in Britain and that for some unexplained reason, that person had not gone into exile with him. Harry had been alone for his five pregnancies, something that Ray couldn't imagine putting Ben through.

They didn't discuss it, but the Fraser's both found Harry a little 'larger than life', his steady acceptance of the roles fate handed him slightly intimidating. The fact that his boss acted like a normal person, someone who showed no airs or graces, was what made working for Harry so rewarding. They'd gained not only a decent employer, but a good friend in Harry, and Ray often thanked Ben for pushing him into applying for his current job.

Even if said job was a bit stressful at the moment. As the assistant to the unofficial mayor of their city of tents, Ray was finding his workload rather large. It wasn't unmanageable at the moment, but he knew that once the team came off their holiday status and went back to work, he wouldn't be able to manage anything other than the curse breaking side of the many tasks requested of him. The rest of the camp would need a clerk of their own, and Ray didn't want to tell Harry that just yet, knowing how much Harry hated interviews.

Harry was at the moment sitting in the communal area with Ray and several of the newly arrived redheads, going over the necessary papers for re-establishing their businesses. They'd helped the Morgan family do just this when little Sally had needed a refuge from the outside world, and so the procedure was not an untested one. The international laws were actually fairly straightforward for once, and the twin inventors were very excited about becoming an international brand. The broom wright was a little more reserved, and Ray thought that he was also a lot more interested in Ray's boss than was strictly polite. Ray had realised that Harry was gay a long time ago – the few dates the man had ever been on had been with men. He and Ben had speculated behind closed curtains that Harry's rescue of the Weasley family had something to do with the one he'd left behind when entering exile and it appeared that the broom wright was the best candidate for being that person.

He was halfway through helping the twins register their logo internationally when Harry put a hand on his arm, raising the other for quiet. Ray was astonished at the pure amount of magical energy running through his boss, a feeling very reminiscent of an immanent thunderstorm. Harry looked abstracted, his gaze turned inward as he processed whatever it was that had caught his attention.

"Someone has tried to apparate into the camp," he murmured and Ray frowned. With the wards on a higher footing, they would shunt anyone who attempted to apparate in to a randomly selected spot lower down on the path along the edge of Lake Victoria. If that person meant the camp any harm, they were incarcerated there. If they had simply been misdirected by mistake then they were able to walk up the path to the camp. There were one or two spots in camp that allowed direct apparation, and they were marked very clearly. However, you needed to be keyed into the wards to do so, and most of the camp simply chose to apparate further down the path and then walk in.

"Harry?" the broom wright sounded concerned, but not nervous, and Ray shot him a sharp look. Harry would need a moment of peace a quiet to sort what the wards were telling him out, not badgering. The redhead was looking worried though, so Ray forgave him a bit. All the tension bled away when Harry smiled, a genuinely pleased expression on his face, and squeezed Ray's arm.

"It's Ferdi!" he announced, "Sorry Ron, Fred, George, this will have to be finished later. Of course, the forms don't need supervision while you fill them out, so if you return them to me completed I'll see that they're processed quickly. Ray, get the team together would you? Trinket, come with me."

Ray was not surprised to see Trinket standing behind them, as the Goblin was co-holder of the wards. Ferdinand Bolero had been Harry's first assistant in the field, but he had left the team at the request of his bride to be. They had visited the man in Spain for Kit's birth, and Ray had quite enjoyed sharing his tales of assistorial woe with someone who knew Harry and his quirks. They all wrote to Ferdi on a regular basis, the letter begun by one member of the team and then passed on to the next, with the last person to get it sending it on. The Morgan's had allowed the team to purchase two of their raptors, trained to fly long distances quickly with confidential documents, so the letters kept Ferdi pretty up to date with both their work and their play. His resignation from the team had not removed him from their thoughts, as they had been more than just a group of people who worked together. Harry had strode off quickly, muttering to Trinket as he went, and Ray wondered what had brought the flamboyant man to the camp without prior warning. Not that he wasn't welcome or anything, but with the wards up like this, his re-direction would not have been comfortable.

Francesca was happy to abandon the revisions on her latest article for a visit with an old friend, and Elaine and Harding were willing to take a break from the current problem they were working with. Although the team were supposed to be on holiday, it was more of a holiday from the curse breaking than from work itself. None of them was lazy by nature, and though they'd all spent a few months doing nothing at all related to their chosen fields, they had all slowly picked up their studies and publication schedules again. One of the joys of his job was knowing that he was contributing to a group of people whose ideas and discoveries were changing the way the world thought about certain things.

Ferdi's clothing had not gotten any less flamboyant in his time away from the camp, though the face above the bright clothes was more sombre. Harry also looked solemn, and Trinket looked positively grim. Trinket and Ferdi didn't get along as well as the rest of the team had, but that had been a simple difference in styles, and of course, Trinket had still been struggling with his role as Harry's 'property' in those early days. Since the formation of the Clan, that issue had been put where it belonged, firmly in the distant past.

Ray hugged his fellow researcher and archivist, patting him gently on the back, and Ferdi was pretty much passed around the team until he was deposited on a bench and everyone settled down. Harry's elves put snacks in the middle of the table, with a particular portion rather pointedly in front of the boss. Harry simply rolled his eyes and bit into one of the pastries, though he knew better than to complain. He was underweight, so naturally the whole team were on a mission to feed him up again. Despite his status as Boss, Harry knew when he was outnumbered, outvoted and outmanoeuvred because the green-eyed man hadn't called them on it, complying with their silent command in good grace.

"Not that we're not happy to see you, caro," Frannie said after the usual inquiries about children and work had passed, "But…"

"Why am I here?" Ferdi sighed, and put down the tea he was sipping delicately. Ray had to admire the mans style, even if he did think it was a bit over the top. He knew for a fact that Ferdi adored Harry simply because Harry had accepted him as he was, without fault or complaint, something that a lot of other people had difficulty with. In fact, in the short week that Ferdi had spent explaining the intricacies of his role to Ray, the first and foremost rule had been 'Harry comes first' in everything.

"This is… a blow to my pride as much as anything else," Ferdi sighed, "But I have left my wife."

"Oh Ferdi," Harry said gently and reached over to pat the nearest brightly clad arm, "I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"You spoilt me," Ferdi laughed sadly, "I loved working with you all in the field, and returning to the libraries and guild halls showed me that those that works there were so… dull and dry. It was all just an academic exercise, and that simply didn't compare to working with all of you. That brief visit in Spain… when you left I wanted to scream 'take me with you!' But I couldn't, of course. There was Juanita and my duties…"

"But couldn't you have persuaded her to try living in the field with you?" Ray frowned, "There are other teams taking spouses out into the field now, with varied degrees of success."

"There was a second problem…" Ferdi sighed, "And this is where the blow to my pride comes in. Juanita was asking about your work, Harry. In fact, she was asking about you a lot. I couldn't tell her of course…"

"But the confidentiality vow should have broken with the publication of the books," Harry frowned, "There was very little that I kept back that you already knew."

"I told her otherwise," Ferdi held up a delicate hand to prevent any further questions, "I am a researcher, Harry, and I thought it strange that Juanita was so … fascinated with you. She asked me questions that had little to do with our work at odd moments, and spent hours trying to find out more about the various artefacts that we had discovered together. In the end I discovered that she was …writing to a distant cousin in Britain… she was acting as a spy… and I believe that my marriage was only an attempt for her controller to find out more about you."

Harry swore violently and stormed away from the table, heading for the lake. Ray felt like joining him. Juanita had been the love of Ferdi's life. He'd told Ray that he wouldn't have left Harry's team for anyone else. On the occasions that Harry had written in the team letter before Ray, there was always a warm note to Juanita included in his portion of the letter, and inquiries after her health. Harry had known how important this woman was to Ferdi and had forgiven him his choice.

"Oh Ferdi," Elaine sighed and gathered him into a hug. Harding reached over his wife to pat the flamboyant brunette on the shoulder with a gentle hand and Frannie fussed over him from the other side. Trinket growled a few epithets directed at the absent witch, and Ray topped Ferdi's mug of tea up with a commiserating smile. They had been very lucky so far that no quislings had come to the camp, though there were some very stringent security checks in place to prevent such a thing from happening. Harry's past remained largely undiscussed, but it had not escaped Ray's notice that his bosses decision to live entirely in the field kept him well away from those that were fascinated with, or terrified by, him.

"Are you staying, then?" Ray asked when everyone had calmed down, "Because if you did I might have a job for you, and you'd save Harry an interview."

"Ray?" Frannie looked startled, and he grinned over at her. He hadn't spoken to her about this, though he had discussed it with one team member.

"We need a city clerk," Ray said firmly, "I can cope with the needs of the schools, and the masters and the guilds and Harry at the moment, but the minute Gringott's sends us back into the field I won't be able to manage it all. And the team is my priority, as it should be. Harry likes Ferdi, and Ferdi needs a job."

"I didn't come looking for a job," Ferdi protested, "Just time away from the tedium of home. Our marriage will be dissolved of course, and there was never a magical bond performed… she said it was too old fashioned."

"Point in her favour," Trinket grunted, "I may not have to hunt her down after all. You would be useful Bolero. Fraser is inundated with requests, and you'd be working for several masters across many fields."

"Not to mention both the schools," Elaine beamed, "Come on Ferdi, you know you want to! You said yourself you wanted to be back in the field. Short of murdering Ray and taking his place…"

"Don't even go there," Ray warned, grinning at the arithmancer in friendly threat.

"… This is the next best thing!" she finished making a rude hand gesture at Ray. He rolled his eyes at her, and leaned his elbows on the table. Ferdi looked tempted.

"Should I be scared?" Harry sounded much calmer as he returned, squeezing Ferdi on the shoulder briefly and retaking his seat, "You've got that plotting look on your face."

"Who?" Harding asked, amused and Harry chuckled. Ray was glad to see that his boss was able to put aside his own disappointment to reassure them, for that was what Harry was doing by making jokes.

"Everyone," he waved a hand, "What have you cooked up during my temper tantrum?"

Ray grinned and started explaining to the boss how they could have Ferdi back. Harry looked a little startled at first, but from his grin, it was quickly apparent that he approved. He did give Ray a very significant look though, and Ray knew he was in for a lecture the next time the two of them were in private. Harry took his responsibilities seriously, which meant that no one was allowed to be overworked. That Ray had concealed his concerns from Harry was something that he and his boss would be discussing at his bosses leisure.

Ray didn't mind the forthcoming lecture too much. It was just another way that showed how much Harry cared for his team.

0o0o0o0

Next – school reunions


	5. Chapter 5

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Disclaimer – not mine

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**Draco and Remus**

0o0o0o0

Ginny had explained to him why the camp was suddenly on alert, but Draco had never put much store in seers and their prophesies, never mind that it was a prophecy that had all but destroyed Potter's life since before he was born. His dearest wife had been furious that so much damage had been done to one so young, and in another lifetime Draco might have offered to track this birth father down and have him murdered to please her. It had been Ginny's own influence that had shown him the error of his ways, and he was content to watch her stride back and forth in their tent, ranting to get rid of her initial energy, knowing that she would turn to him once she was ready for comfort.

It was this sort of thing that had resulted in the conception of three other children, and Draco was hoping for a fourth. He wanted a large family, so that his children would never feel as lonely as he had growing up.

Thinking of such things turned his mind to home and hearth, and he had sounded Ginny out about going home to France. They had a lovely house there, richly decorated in ways that Malfoy manor had never been. There was a small handprint of ink on the wall outside his study where his daughter had gotten into his desk. There were the photographs adorning the mantle in the family parlour, the noise of three active and happy children, the sight of a wife that was slender and graceful, her lovely robes slightly creased with the touches of her children. His own parchment-case, which he carried to his various meetings, contained artwork from all three of them as well as the usual documents and contracts. His father had never carried his offerings anywhere other than to the fireplace.

Now that Arthur was recovering so quickly, it seemed that every day he was closer to his usual robust self, Draco wanted to take his family home. He would never have raised the matter if Arthur had still been on his deathbed, but things were very different now. He had not regretted leaving France to attend to his father-in-law, after all the man had made him welcome in his family despite the initial misgivings of the rest of the brood, and Molly was a warm-hearted and giving witch underneath it all. However, business in France could not be neglected forever, and he saw no reason for his family to sleep in a tent when they had their own perfectly good beds waiting for them. Ginny had agreed to go home, with the proviso that they would keep in close contact with her parents for the next few months. Arthur's curse had been quite a scare to the family; barring outside interference, wizards lived for centuries, and the man should have had much longer to enjoy with his wife and children than he had.

The question was, would they be able to leave? After all, the camp wards were quite intricate and intimidating. Ginny had confessed that she felt safe beneath Harry's magic, and even Draco had to admit that the man had ensured that heightening the wards only brought a feeling of alertness and protection to those beneath them, when most wards felt frightening and harsh when they went to a higher footing. Draco didn't think that Potter would forbid their departure, but he was expecting the man to delay or interfere with it. Despite the fact that Potter had rescued his family, cured his father-in-law, and provided them with more than adequate shelter and food, Draco wasn't sure how much trust to give his former 'handler' in the war. Potter had taken care of his spy, but it had been Ginny that Draco had trusted more.

Potter was seated in the communal area – something that Draco had come to expect in the few days since their arrival. The man spent a lot of time under the public eye, and Draco wondered if this was because he had finally renounced his formerly shy ways, or if it was true that he was considered by the constant inhabitants of this 'city' as its mayor and was making himself accessable to his 'citizens'. He was working over a bundle of parchments when Draco announced himself with a discreet cough, and looked up with a faint smile.

"Malfoy," Potter gestured to a seat, remaining seated himself, putting Draco into the position of supplicant from the start. It was a subtle power play, and Draco noted it immediately. Potter was too naïve to play such a game at the end of the war, but now… it was an interesting indicator of how much things had changed.

"I wish to take Ginny and the children home," Draco said smoothly, "She is not opposed to the idea, however with the change to the status of your wards…"

"They're not keeping you in, Malfoy," Potter smirked, an expression that did not suit him at all, "Nor will they prevent your family returning if they so wish."

"Most kind," Draco drawled, "However I believe she is just as worried about the safety of those left behind…"

Draco trailed off suggestively, curious as to how Potter would respond to the implied criticism that his protection was not good enough. The man opposite him gave him a bland look that was actually quite intimidating, and then leaned casually on an elbow, the very picture of a man in charge of his own domain.

"I'm going to talk to dad today about taking up a sort of apprenticeship in France. Cleaver, my contact with the Cologne branch of Gringott's is interested in having him work with them. His skill in detecting and defusing cursed Muggle objects is well known among our circle, and its thought that Bill inherited some of his ability from his father. Dad's too young to retire just yet, really, and I don't think he'd like to be kept by you lot," Potter shrugged and folded his hands, "They'd have to relocate to France, but I'm sure you could assist with that. The tent could go with them, that way they'd have all of their furniture and belongings to decant into the new home."

"A surprisingly well thought out offer," Draco raised an eyebrow, and Potter snorted. It was such an uncouth sound, yet it was a comfort to Draco to know that the bland and urbane man in front of him still contained the uncouth youth that he had once known. The whole family was on tenterhooks around him, and Potter didn't seem overly interested in renewing his acquaintance with them.

"Are you going to grade me, Professor?" Potter rolled his eyes, "Tell me how well I've grown up?"

"Don't be a bore, Potter," Draco was tempted to do just that, but wasn't going to give the other man the satisfaction. Besides, it would be a blow to his ego to have to give a top mark to his former rival, and anything less would be untruthful, "I've no interest in getting into a pissing competition with you."

"You'd lose," Potter replied, smirking at him smugly, "You can't possibly compete with my life."

"No?" Draco had enough of the not so subtle barbs, and leaned forward, the better to address his remarks, looking to shake the implacable man before him. Potter had always been so easy to rattle in school, and he wanted to know that he could still get under the others skin. It was a way of testing the limits of his power and if there was one thing that Draco hated, it was not knowing where he stood, "After all, I'm not the one with eight children out of wedlock and no partner in sight, living in a movable house with no solid foundations, going from danger to danger and dragging my children with me."

"No," Potter agreed, his relaxed slouch and casual tone not changing at all, which made his next words all the more cutting, "You're the one who went out and did the exact opposite of everything that your father ever did. You married for love, to a woman whose considerable beauty was incidental to her loyalty, ability to forgive, and warmth. You live in a house sized to your needs, rather than to your ideas of your own prestige, and you involve yourself directly in the welfare of those not connected to you intimately. You have the best of everything there is, but only the things that you need or use on a daily to weekly basis. You have a growing family, not a show child, and spend time with your in laws on a regular basis. If that's not the opposite of Lucius then I don't know what is."

That calm, quiet voice cut through every defence Draco had, and he felt himself go white to the lips in shock. As an off the cuff analysis, it was very accurate, more so than he felt strictly comfortable with. Potter gave him a slow smile, one that was sincere, not at all mocking, and Draco looked away, taking a few very deep breaths. Potter was more acute than he had been in school, and that was rather a shock. Draco had gotten used to thinking of the other as not quite in his league when it came to brains. It also showed that Potter had gathered quite a bit of information about his life, something that was slightly unnerving. The man had spent so much time isolated from them all by this ridiculous exile that it had never occurred to Draco that he would make the effort to check up on those that didn't live under the British Ministry's direct control.

"But then, that is your business. It's not my place to tell you about your life," Potter murmured after a long moment, and began gathering his documents carefully, "I'll put the offer to dad and leave the ball in his court, as it were. You and your family are welcome to stay or leave at your pleasure, and your return is also at your own discretion. Now, if you will excuse me, I do have some work to be getting on with."

Before Potter could make a move one way or another, a vaguely familiar house elf popped up next to the table, hopping anxiously from one foot to another. It was wearing a clean and hideously patterned tea towel, but it wasn't until the creature spoke that Draco recognised his family's former elf, Dobby.

"Master Harry! You bit of Hogwarts is rattling!" the words made no sense to Draco, but Potter evidently knew what it meant because he dropped the documents onto the table again and held out a hand. There was a powerful wave of magic, and a small hand carved box in a red wood came zooming out of Potter's tent, coming to rest smartly on his upturned palm. Draco wouldn't realise until much later that Potter hadn't even drawn his wand, let alone spoken a spell.

"Harry?" Ron's voice sounded in eerie stereo with Uncle Severus' lover, and Draco resigned himself to speaking with the werewolf. Ginny's influence not withstanding, he couldn't find it in himself to like the lover of his Uncle. Draco was of course careful to conceal this from the uncle in question. The man knew more about the Dark Arts than his father had, and would not hesitate to use them to defend that which was his.

Ron and Lupin hurried over, evidently attracted by the powerful summoning charm, and the unusual occurrence. Polite society didn't summon objects across open spaces unless the distance involved was quite short, thus avoiding injury to one's peers. That Potter either didn't know about this courtesy, or didn't care was not surprising to Draco. His former handler in the war had brushed aside niceties, common courtesy and manners whenever the situation suited him. It was the first familiar trait that Draco recognised in the mayor of the City of Tents.

"Harry, what is that?" Ron asked as Potter opened the rattling box, revealing a grey three sided stone, two of the sides cut at smooth right angles to each other, the third jagged and uneven. Lupin started in shock and then swore, using a word that he had clearly picked up from Uncle Severus. Potter made an amused noise and slanted a mildly reproving glance at the werewolf.

"It's a piece of the lintel to the Great Hall of Hogwarts," Harry murmured, "The castle snuck it into Remus' pocket without him knowing, probably using the Headmaster to do so. I assume that Dumbledore was present when the Ministry laid their compulsion spell on you, Remus?"

"Yes… but Harry… the castle couldn't have…" the werewolf looked rather concerned about Potter's mental health, and Draco had to agree. Hogwarts was a lump of stone, well crafted and well warded, but nothing more than that. If the Headmaster had planted that piece of stone on the werewolf, then he had done so for his own purposes, not at the behest of something that was non-sentient.

"Now is not the time to argue," Potter shook his head, and reached into the box. Draco cursed and lunged forward, even as the other two did as well, trying to stop the idiot from touching the stone that could have concealed any number of harmful or fatal spells. Until they knew why that piece of stone had been sent, and why it was suddenly active, it was best to avoid any skin on skin contact at all.

All three of them collided with Harry's arm just as he grasped the contents of the box. There was a horrid squeezing sensation, as if they were apparating somewhere together, and when the world once again assumed its proper proportions and space, they were standing somewhere that Draco had never thought he'd see again. The view of the entrance foyer was achingly familiar, as was the smell and echo of the school. Potter made a softly contented sound and drifted sideways out of their numb grasps, reaching out to pat the stonework itself. The look on his face was a heartbreaking mixture of tender happiness and pain, and he leaned against the wall like a man leaning into his lover.

"Hello again," Potter whispered softly, "I missed you."

There was a soft grating noise and the air pressure increased for a moment, like being squeezed in an unexpected hug. A stray shaft of moonlight from the Great Hall filtered down to caress Potter's hair and he smiled in contentment. Any question that Hogwarts was a sentient being went right out the Floo, and by Ron and the werewolf's expressions neither of them had anticipated this either.

0o0o0o0

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Remus whirled, pulling his wand. The Head of Ravenclaw, Professor Flitwick, stuttered to a halt and gaped at them, something that Remus had never seen in his unflappable former colleague. Granted, Remus was in no position to criticise, having gone from deepest Africa to Hogwarts in the blink of an eye, an event that had been just as shockingto him as finding a declared Dark Lord in the foyer was to Filius. Harry had of course held the stone from the lintel in his bare hands when Remus had first arrived at the camp, but the werewolf had learned to trust his instincts over the years, and something had warned him that touching the stone now would bring about shocking events. He just hadn't anticipated being brought to the very school he had once attended and taught in.

"Professor Flitwick," Harry's voice broke Remus from his dazed musing, and he squared his shoulders, preparing to duel their way out if necessary. Filius hesitated on the bottom most stair for a moment and then hurried forward, his wand pointed directly at Harry. Remus and Draco both reached out and grabbed Ron before the redhead could do anything foolish, both of them well acquainted with how protective Ron could be of the green-eyed man.

"Potter," Flitwick's voice was cold. He was the only Head of House who had stayed on after the war ended. Minerva McGonagall had left only a few days after Harry's exile was announced, Pomona Sprout had left when Longbottom abandoned his studies weeks later, and Severus had stayed on for two more years after the last of the Weasley's had graduated. Only Filius had remained, and Remus had often wondered why. It was no secret among the Order, and all four heads of house had been members, that Harry's exile had been a gross miscarriage of justice.

"Why are you here?" Filius stopped just out of arms reach, and Remus watched as Harry straightened away from the castle wall, his posture completely relaxed. Despite being held at wand point, it was perfectly clear that it was Harry who was in control here.

"The castle has called me," Harry said simply, "She is under attack; her wards are threatened."

"What!" Draco spat, and even Remus felt a touch of annoyance that they hadn't been told this sooner. Harry shot them a small reproving smile, and Remus watched as Draco fell silent, paling under the impact of that single look. Harry had been in almost complete control of Draco during the end of the war, the blonde Slytherin hadn't so much as changed his socks without prior approval. Remus had been apprehensive about the arrangement, mainly because Harry had been Draco's enemy for most of their formative years. Harry had never once abused that power, and had brought Draco through the war without so much as a scratch.

"The Son of Merlin is at the gates," Flitwick confirmed heavily, lowering his wand, "Dumbledore is on the castle steps, ready to face him. I fear that he won't be able to hold the man off."

"Because the new Dark Lord is so powerful?" Ron's voice was a little hushed. No one knew much about the Son of Merlin, not even his real name. The man wore a mask of burnished copper, and his hair was a curious mixture of white, brown and blue. He favoured black and white robes, and wielded a staff. His followers went unmasked, their faces concealed under a charm instead, and there were plenty of them. He had promised wealth and power to anyone who flocked to his banner, and there was no distinction between bloodlines or blood purity.

"Because Dumbledore is so weak," Filius sighed, "He is no longer a match for this new Dark Lord. I have stayed with him for these last few years, watching as he declined. I have stopped him from acting irrationally whenever I could; I am sorry that I couldn't stop him from signing your death warrant, Potter…"

"Don't be," Harry shrugged, "It doesn't matter now. And you're right, Professor. The Headmaster won't survive the night."

"Harry, no matter what he's done, you can't kill him," Remus said urgently, his eyes wide in shock. Surely his friend's child hadn't changed so much that he would consider murder an acceptable act? He was not reassured when Harry laughed at him.

"I don't intend to kill anyone," Harry waved a dismissive hand, "In fact, all I want to do is rework the castle's wards. She's worried about her children, and it's far too dangerous to continue to allow her to be reliant on the strength of the Headmaster to fulfil her duty of protection. I've been thinking about her wards for some time, and I think I've come up with a way for her to hold her own wards, in keeping with the traditions of the school and the Founders. I even have a way for the Headmasters of the future to add to or change the wards to suit the school's needs."

"You can't rework the wards while Dumbledore holds them," Ron protested, "He'll know that someone is trying to interfere and come in here! He'll kill you the moment he sees you, Harry!"

"I don't intend to rework the wards while Dumbledore holds them," Harry was beginning to look and sound exasperated with them all, and the temperature in the foyer was dropping in response. Remus began to understand why the castle seemed welcoming to some, and foreboding to others. She was sentient, and controlling the environment the students and staff worked in. The dungeon's gloom began to take on a whole new light. Severus had preferred the shadows during his days as a spy, and Hogwarts had evidently indulged him. Leaving the school had been a blow for Severus, but he hadn't wanted to stay under the command of a man who had manipulated so much of his life. In addition, he'd wanted to live with Remus, and the werewolf was banned from stepping foot on Hogwarts grounds.

"I have no inclination to interfere with Dumbledore at all. He can grandstand in front of the moron at the gates as much as he likes. I'm here to take control of the wards when the person holding them falls. I can rework them then," Harry continued, his tone deliberately callous, "Here, catch."

Draco snatched the object out of the air almost automatically, and Remus glanced at the lump of stone that the blonde now held, wondering why Harry was surrendering the piece of lintel to them.

"All three of you keep hold of that or each other," Harry went on, "It will take you back to camp when the wards fall. I'll follow behind once I've made the school safe. Professor Flitwick, I don't intend to allow anyone outside the castle to enter her until I am good and ready, so if you're going to support Dumbledore, now is the time."

"I was not intending to," Flitwick confessed in a difficult voice, "The hearth point for the school is here, and as Deputy Head, the wards would normally fall to me. It was my intention to seal the castle until the danger had passed. There are far too many of them for the teachers to hold off alone, and the children need protection. The school has become a frightening, cold place, Mr Potter. It has been since you left."

"Things will be better soon," Harry said softly, sounding every inch the father that he was. Draco put the piece of lintel on the floor, where no one could kick it away by accident and gave Ron a significant look. Ron nodded and Draco let go of him. When the redhead made no move to interfere with events, Remus let go too. Harry and Filius were conversing in low tones together in the middle of the foyer and Remus took a chance to look around a bit. The school was grubbier and more worn than he'd remembered, and did indeed feel colder. It was not as welcoming as it once had been. Even at night, he'd had no problem wandering the halls, his wand his sole source of light. Severus had walked completely in the dark, totally at ease in his surroundings. His lover would not have done so now.

"So are we just going to leave Dumbledore to die alone?" Draco's words surprised Remus, and Ron gave a disgusted huff. That was not Harry's intention. It was not commonly known among the students what happened if, when, the castle was attacked, so perhaps the comment was not as surprising as some thought. Harry was naturally aware of the details, and his actions would seem callous to those who didn't.

"There are protocols for protecting the school and the students in times of attack," Remus said softly, giving up on his attempt to eavesdrop, "The Headmaster and three heads of house will proceed to the front steps to act as defenders. The fourth head of house is usually the deputy, and remains by the hearth point, ready to assume the mantle of the wards should the worst happen. The rest of the teachers are split up, some defending the castle, the others locked in with the children to act as a last line of defence. Dumbledore is not alone out there."

"McGonagall used to go out there too, mainly because he was too strong to fall for Voldy," Ron muttered, "Things must be bad if Flitwick is staying in here."

"But how can Potter just rework the wards? Surely if Flitwick is holding them, then the same problem applies," Draco sneered, "Any reworking would be a distraction he can't afford."

"I'm not going to hold the wards, Mr Malfoy," Filius' voice interrupted them, "When the time comes they will fall to Mr Potter's mantle."

Remus turned, looking at his former colleague with a frown. Harry's idea was a wild one, but to simply usurp Filius' authority was completely uncalled for.

"Don't fret, Remus," Filius had apparently read his mind, "I am not in the least slighted. You can feel the difference to the school as it stands. This is how it felt in the years prior to Potter's arrival, and how it has felt ever since his exile."

"But it was always a warm place," Remus was quite sensitive to atmospheres, a gift of the wolf, "When I was at school here it was welcoming. And when I taught their third year…"

"Ah but both times there was a Potter in residence," Filius sighed, "I myself am unsure what the significance of his bloodline holds for the castle, but the truth of the matter is that whenever a Potter is in residence the school feels more like a home."

"Evidently we're attractive to big piles of rock," Harry's voice sounded amused, and the castle rumbled in warning. He chuckled, but didn't say anything else, drifting over towards the doors leading out onto the school grounds.

"If the Son of Merlin is at the gates, does that mean he hasn't attacked yet?" Ron asked, "It's very quiet out there."

"They've been fighting for the last few minutes," Harry replied, "She's muted the sounds of battle to prevent the children from panicking. Do you want to see outside?"

"Can we? Would it be a problem?" Ron asked the ceiling and as if responding the doors became transparent enough to see through. The slightly grainy texture of the image showed that the wood was still standing firm, but Remus forgot about that in favour of staring in shock at the scene outside.

Two of the teachers, not people he recognised, were holding a defensive shield over the front steps, a standard procedure for this sort of warfare. The rest of the teachers, including the Headmaster, were trading spells with the wizards and witches on the front lawn, including one in a burnished mask with swatches of brown white and blue hair. The hairstyle led people to believe that the Son of Merlin was a metamorphmagus, which of course only added to the anxiety of the population. Even supposing the man could be unmasked, there was no guarantee that you would be looking at his true face.

"Do we know why they are attacking here?" Draco sounded shaken at the silent fury of the battle before him, and Filius looked a little taken aback as well. Harry was standing quietly, his hands behind his back, watching the fighting intently with Ron pressed to his side. Whatever was going on between those two was a mystery to Remus, though he and Severus had each placed a bet on the outcome of the relationship.

"There are several students with parents or grandparents highly ranked in the Ministry attending here," Filius sighed, "After it became known that you and your family had been liberated from the cells of the Ministry, there was quite a furore. The Minister announced that Dark Lord Potter was in collusion with the Son of Merlin, and that announcement sparked off some terrible attacks on the populace. At each attack, the Son of Merlin left one person alive, to deliver the message that there was no link between himself and Potter."

Harry made a pained noise and rubbed his brow. His whole body slumped and Remus shot his former colleague a dirty look before moving to comfort the other man. Harry didn't need to be made to feel guilty for a madman's actions, quite enough of that had gone on when he was a teenager. Harry allowed the hug, leaning into Remus for a moment.

"It was believed that the Son of Merlin may well turn his attentions to the children here in an attempt to take hostages that would force the Ministry into submission; Dumbledore refused to accept an armed detachment based in the school grounds to keep the children safe," Flitwick sighed, "I pleaded with him, but it was to no avail. He was convinced that he could handle anything that was thrown at the school alone."

"Oh!" Ron gasped, and drew Remus' and Harry's attention to the transparent doors. Harry straightened and turned away, heading for the hearth point as the Headmaster stepped confidently beyond the shield to get a better shot at the Son of Merlin. This was apparently what the rest of the madman's supporters were waiting for, as several killing curses hit the elderly wizard simultaneously. The rest of the teachers recoiled in shocked horror as the man who had been feared by Voldemort, and the destroyer of Grindlewald, collapsed without ceremony on the steps of the school.

Remus felt a little faint, and the whole castle shook as the wards flickered with the death of the Headmaster. The teachers on the front step pressed back against the school doors, and this horrified reaction probably saved their lives. A warm golden shield rose like water from the very ground, separating the attackers from their target, spreading to cover the entire school. Suits of armour dashed past Remus in a cacophony of intent and ran straight through the wall, passing through it as though it was clear air, their weapons raised to attack those clustered on the lawn. Gargoyles swooped down from their perches on the roof to join the fray, and although the spells flying around the front lawn now were lethal, they seemed to have no effect on the castle's own defenders. Several suits of armour were blasted apart, only to rapidly reform themselves and rejoin the fray.

"Ravenclaw preserve us!" Filius squeaked and Remus whirled, choking when he realised where the power for these defences was coming from.

Harry was standing on the hearth point, his arms slightly raised, his face turned to the ceiling, his entire body glowing with power. Through the golden haze, Remus could see that the man's lips were moving soundlessly, words and instructions passing from him to the castle herself. At his feet the sigils of Hogwarts, normally invisible in the foyer, glowed with tremendous power. The air was becoming charged with potential, prickling along Remus' skin in a most unnerving and uncomfortable fashion. To his left Draco cried out, a soft wordless plea for mercy that had Ron groaning in reluctant agreement. Remus grit his teeth, not even wanting to think about the children suffering under this touch.

'I would not hurt my children' the woman's voice was stern, a little disappointed, a tone that only a well experienced and loving mother could achieve, and Remus whispered a pained apology.

Then the potential released, bringing with it relief and Remus couldn't help his thankful sigh. There was a gentle booming noise and the whole school vibrated, a bit like someone stretching slowly after a long sleep. The air shivered and stirred, bringing with it a fresh scent, and the torches along the walls brightened into steady warmth. There were a hundred pops and the house elves of Hogwarts appeared in the foyer, rushing forward to place their hands on the still glowing sigils. Remus watched in astonishment as they wove their magic into the schools, binding themselves to her instead of the headmaster. They popped away one by one, weeping happy tears, and the sigils flashed once before fading into a dormant but still visible state.

Ron leapt forward and caught Harry as he fell. The green-eyed man was whiter than any ghost and drenched in sweat, gasping for breath and shaking uncontrollably. Remus held Draco back as the blonde made a concerned sound, allowing Ron to deal with the spell shock. Draco had been a very well cared for spy, and Remus even felt that sometime the blonde's actions after the war had been his attempt to repay that kind treatment to his absent master. As it was, Remus was well aware that only Ron could get near Harry when he was in a state without being hexed.

"We need to get him… home," Ron edited his words for the sake of their audience, and Remus nodded, sending a small smile to Filius. The tiny wizard was giving Harry a very grateful look, not that Harry was in any state to appreciate it. The werewolf turned and glanced at the still transparent doors, noting that the defending teachers were being well looked after by the castle's own defences, and that the Son of Merlin had left the area. Only a few of his more fanatical defenders were still fighting as the first blush of dawn lightened the sky.

The crumpled body of Albus Dumbledore was stood over by the mans own office gargoyles, protected from any spells that headed their way. He had been someone that Remus had admired once, and his acceptance of a student infected with lycanthropy had earned him Remus' respect and gratitude. Unfortunately, the hero worship had been worn away by time and the man's own persecution of the wizard that was even now collapsed on the schools floor.

The little chunk of stone floated into the air, glowing a warm yellow and Harry made a noise that sounded a little like a sob before obediently putting his hand out. The stone waited until Remus and Draco were holding onto Harry as well before dropping into his shaking hand and taking them away from the school and the tragedy that was about to unfold there.

Their arrival in the camp was a shock and Harry convulsed weakly in Ron's arms. There was a rush of black and a snarl, and Severus' hand was locked around Remus upper arm, a familiar and painful grip that Remus was terribly glad to feel. How he was going to summon the words to explain the terrible and wonderful events he'd just witnessed he had no idea.

0o0o0o0

They'd been deposited back at their departure point, and from the pounce Uncle Severus had made it was hard to tell who was the werewolf and who was not. His Uncle's lover had protested that he was unharmed, but that had not earned him freedom from Severus Snape's firm grip. They'd taken Potter to the hospital tent and Draco's uncle had conjured a stool, stuffed the werewolf onto it and then wrapped himself around the man from behind, glaring at anyone who came too close.

The Italian Healer was evidently used to Potter returning from unexpected excursions in something of a state, because he had the man in a bed and potioned in rapid order. Several of Potter's self declared 'team' had appeared and were seated on an empty bed beside him, even as Draco's brother in law sat on another conjured stool, clutching Potter's hand. The whole family knew that Ron had spent the better part of a decade pining for Potter, and it seemed that the two men were still close. Draco's wife had even predicted that when the family eventually went back to their own lives, Ron would remain. None of the family considered staying in the camp permanently, and all were hoping to set Molly and Arthur up somewhere central in France where they could be visited easily. The Twins wouldn't care where they lived one way or another; it was obvious to Draco that they possessed a talent for more than mischief and that they would be able to set up their business once more. Bill and his family already lived in Paris, and if Hermione insisted on her ridiculous idea of continuing to live apart from her husband, she could no doubt be persuaded to settle near to her in laws.

"Well?" Uncle Severus' patience, always in scant supply, sounded as if it had worn out an hour ago. The clawed hand fisted in his lovers robe spoke of the source of his worry, and the werewolf didn't seem to mind the shaking he was receiving, a long suffering look in his eyes. Draco began to appreciate that the werewolf was no catamite, and had long ago learned to use passive aggressive actions to manipulate the more domineering Snape. It was something of a shock to realise that the man that Draco had always considered weaker than his uncle was in fact an equal in the relationship.

"We were summoned by Hogwarts;" Ron's voice was dry, but perfectly clear, "Apparently the school is sentient and has been communicating with Harry through the stone that Professor Lupin brought to camp with him."

That was a telling error right there. Ronald was badly rattled if he had reverted to using old titles for Lupin. Most of the Weasley's used his nickname of Moony, something that made Draco's uncle sneer in disgust if it was used in front of him. Draco didn't think that Ronald was in any state to be considerate of his former Potions Professor.

"It has long been surmised that the Potter line is the culmination of the house of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw," Uncle Severus spat in his speaking-to-an-idiot-child voice that never failed to make Draco expect immanent detention and deducted points, his status as a graduate not withstanding.

"Professor Flitwick didn't mention that," Ronald sighed and the Healer foisted a potion down his throat, frowning heavily. The resulting splutters and indignant half-uttered protests were mildly amusing, but as his lovely wife had just entered the tent, Draco maintained decorum. He accepted her embrace happily and tucked her against his side. The potion evidently bucked Ronald up because he straightened from his slouch and spoke in a clearer voice as he related the fantastic events they had just witnessed.

"That explains the spell shock," the American arithmancer sighed, "And the trigger for the wards here. We registered your departure as a group apparation, something that the wards see as a potential threat."

"Kidnapping," the Goblin grunted from where it stood at the foot of Potter's bed, "Will he be down long, Vecchio?"

"No, he's not hurt. The spell shock will wear off in another three hours or so, and he'll be able to go home for his dinner," the Healer sighed, "It would be better if he had someone other than the redoubtable Dobby and Winky to help him with the children."

"I'll go," the Goblin spoke before anyone else could, and received a nasty look from Ron, "Wait with him while I inform Argent that she is to collect his children this afternoon."

"Wait, it's still morning?" the werewolf sounded as shocked as Draco felt. It felt as if they had been away for hours. The Goblin did not deign to reply, turning on a heel and striding off to the entrance.

"You have been absent for only forty three minutes," Uncle Severus announced, and Draco tucked Ginny even closer to his side. The death of Albus Dumbledore was a momentous thing, something that should have taken longer than a mere forty-three minutes. From the looks on Ron and Lupin's face, they felt the same way. The Healer flicked diagnostic spells over Ron, pronounced him unhurt and then checked Lupin over as well. Once he was given a clean bill of health, Uncle Severus hauled him up from his stool and out of the tent. Draco smiled at his wife in mild amusement. They had both come to enjoy watching his reserved and controlled uncle navigating the waters of love, often with unusual results.

"We should…" Ginny tilted her head at the tent exit and Draco nodded, knowing that it would be up to him to break the news to the rest of the family. No matter that Dumbledore had betrayed them in his later life, the man had once been a mentor and family friend, and his death would be a bitter pill to swallow. The circumstances of that death were also something that the family needed to be told, as it was likely that even here the effects would be felt. Dumbledore had been a very influential man, and if it got out that Potter had been present for the man's death… Draco was unsure what political ramifications that would have on the camp where they were now sheltering. It could be that he would have to relocate his family much more quickly than he'd first thought.

0o0o0o0

Vecchio's clean bill of health not withstanding, Severus had insisted on conducting his own very thorough exploration of his lover, something that Remus had not protested. In very short order he was naked and pinned, and he gave as good as he got, knowing that to play passive at a time like this would only upset Severus and ruin the sex. Only when he was once more being harassed into a post coital cuddle did Remus lavish the gentler touches he'd wanted to bestow on his Severus.

"It is inconceivable," Severus muttered finally, and Remus paused in his petting to ponder what precisely Severus found inconceivable about the shocking events of this morning. His lover made an impatient grunt, and Remus obediently returned to his petting, smiling into sweaty skin.

"That he should succumb after all this time…"

"Filius said that he was growing more and more irrational as time went on," Remus murmured, "And he did step straight through the defence shield that his staff had erected, as if he couldn't be harmed."

"The castle should have stopped that from happening, she always had before," the comment was a shock and Remus lifted his head from the shoulder it was resting on, gaping at him in astonishment.

"Be still, man," Severus shoved his head back into place, securing it there with long fingers tangled in his hair, "And for Salazar's sake, don't gape at me. I was... made aware of her sentience during the height of my spying. She would offer me… short cuts …"

Remus tightened his grip, grimly aware that his lover had suffered terrible injuries what with one thing and another, and very glad that someone had been taking care of him. Hogwarts would certainly be able to get away with it, as she was too big to be hexed.

"Not surprising really, that she should wake," Severus continued, his voice rather dry, "After all she has absorbed a shockingly large amount of magic since her founding, and the wards themselves were designed to be more dynamic than those of a normal residence or business. I wouldn't put it past Hufflepuff to have designed them that way on purpose."

"Helga Hufflepuff designed Hogwarts wards?" Remus asked and was irritably pulled closer, repositioned and firmly gripped.

"It's in '_Hogwarts: a History_' do you mean to tell me that you've never read it?" his lover grumbled, "That's a shocking gap in your education."

"Shall I correct it now?" Remus made as if to move and was thoroughly pinned to the bed again. From the light in his lover's eyes he wouldn't be leaving it any time soon.

0o0o0o0

Next – Hagrid makes a house call

Hee hee! Did you like Dumbly's death?


	6. Chapter 6

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Disclaimer – not mine at all, at all, at all…

0o0o0o0

**Arthur and Hagrid**

0o0o0o0

"Hello the tent!" Arthur called softly, feeling a little silly, but determined to gain access to the family within. As a visitor to an established community he knew better than to just brush aside their customs and practises. He had wondered why there was not a bell pull system in place to announce visitors, something that could easily be set up and easily maintained. He understood the importance of traditions, and the grip they could have on a community, but it was one of those things that kept popping up in his mind; a small annoyance.

"Come in Mr Wheezy, sir!" piped a small voice and Arthur smiled down at the house elf that had come to answer his call. He'd left Molly to have dinner with Ginny and Draco, who would no doubt begin the process of persuading his wife to come and live in France. Arthur wasn't too sure he wanted to live in that particular country, though his French wasn't too bad. He thought he would prefer somewhere further away from England. As for what he'd do with himself now that he was out from under the Ministry's control, he had no real idea. He wasn't planning to sit around and do nothing; idleness was not a part of his make up; working for another Ministry didn't appeal in the least.

"I is Master Harry's Winky, sir," the house elf introduced herself, "I is kitchen elf. Is you joining the family for dinner?"

"If I may," Arthur smiled at her and she beamed up at him, a sure sign that her master didn't mind an uninvited guest. He'd never been able to afford a house elf, but he was familiar with their mannerisms through his work.

"Arthur!" Harry sounded surprised, but pleased, and Arthur smiled at the young man standing in the doorway of another room. Before he could greet his adopted son, and despite their years of forced separation, Harry still held that place in his heart, there was a noisy avalanche of children rushing to greet him. This was a welcome reminiscent of his own young family and Arthur found himself responding as he had when his children were young. Harry laughed lightly and went to wait for him in an armchair, bringing the small stack of books he'd been carrying with him. The Goblin Trinket was there as well, as Ron had said he would be, and Arthur was aware that he and Harry were discussing something in the books that were now scattered on the low table.

Ron had been very put out that he had not been the one to spend the evening looking after Harry and the children, but Arthur had been expecting something like that to happen. Harry's colleagues were quite possessive of him, and his children evidently regarded the team as part of the family. The magnificent three sided clock, bristling with names and faces, standing against the wall proved that Harry also felt that the team and their children were part of his family, and it was a family's duty to look after each other. Ron had yet to establish himself as Harry's family, in fact all of the Weasley's were seen as something of a threat.

Arthur could understand that. He worried that his family were a threat as well. Not because they would deliberately hurt Harry, or disrupt the camp, but because their expectations and past knowledge of Harry could lead them into making serious mistakes. More than ten years ago, they had been friends and family to Harry Potter, Boy Warrior, the Chosen One, and eventual Destroyer of Voldemort. They had helped Harry to the best of their ability, and without realising it; their expectations and interactions with him had shaped him into who he was. Family held that unconscious power over all of its members, it was only natural. Harry had been betrayed though, and exiled from his family and friends at a time when he was most vulnerable. After years of struggle, loss and sacrifice he had completed a task that had dominated his every waking moment, and with that completion he could finally discover for himself an entirely new way of life. For the last ten years, the people influencing and shaping him had been the ones living in this camp. It was only natural that there would be a form of 'power struggle' with the arrival of the Weasley's, as they attempted to renew their acquaintance with Harry and his team attempted to maintain their own degree of influence.

With all of that convoluted reasoning in mind, Arthur was determined that the one who should be least disturbed by all this was Harry. His son had eight children to worry about, not to mention his established position as team leader, city mayor, uncle to many, and Clan Elder of a small but select group of Goblins. His visit tonight was not to undermine the Goblin currently making his son laugh, but to show that he respected and supported the family that Harry had forged for himself over the last decade.

"I hope you're joining us for dinner, sir," Harry smiled at him as Arthur disengaged from the enthusiastic hug the twins were giving him, joining the adults at last.

"I am, son, if you don't mind," Arthur smiled and leaned down to hug the dark haired man, straightening up and seating himself on the couch beside Trinket. The books they were arguing over were work related, and Arthur wondered if he'd be allowed to borrow one or two once Harry was finished with them. He'd always been fascinated by Bill's tales of curse breaking, and to find Harry also engaged in such work had further piqued his curiosity.

"Not at all, Winky loves cooking for large groups," Harry replied, fond amusement colouring his tone, "I'm never sure if her determination to support me through my pregnancies was because I am her master, or because it meant she'd have a lot of cooking to do for the next twenty years or so. I'm not game to ask, either."

Arthur chuckled, and leaned over to look more closely at one of the open books. The children were making some noise in the background, which had Trinket shifting to look, but Harry didn't seem worried about it, and the Goblin settled back after a moment.

"Interested in curse breaking, Weasley?" Trinket asked abruptly and Arthur sat back, a slightly sheepish look on his face. Faced with the two Masters of the camp, he was a rank amateur at best in this field.

"I am," he confessed, "I always have been. Bill's work seemed so fascinating, you know? And I dabbled a bit in spell removal myself. As head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office I've had to be pretty up to date with my spell detection and removal techniques. I've not dealt with anything as difficult as you chaps, of course."

"Would you like to?" Harry shared a long look with his friend, and then raised an eyebrow at Arthur, "I know you're too young to retire yet, sir, and I didn't think you'd want to work for the French Ministry of Magic."

"I've had enough of Ministry politics," Arthur nodded, "But I'm a bit old to be apprenticing in the field."

"We've had word from the Bank that there is to be several openings in the Cursed Heirloom and Inheritance Department," Trinket announced flatly, "Your experience with Muggle artefacts would be a selling point should you choose to apply. There would be a mandatory training period of course."

"That sounds… fascinating," Arthur murmured, and Harry smiled at him, relief in his eyes. It appeared that his adopted child was just as concerned over his future as the rest of the family. His children had all been discussing what he and Molly would do now that they were exiled from England; a discussion that had been motivated by familial love. Evidently, Harry was also thinking along the same lines, and Arthur took that to be a good sign.

The fact that the job Harry had in mind for him was exactly to his tastes showed that his adopted son hadn't changed that much during their years apart. Harry aimed to please, a trait that endeared him to many, even as it put him under considerable stress. Arthur settled firmly onto the couch and listened to the details being offered with interest.

0o0o0o0

Harry didn't often come right out and ask him to come to the camp, preferring not to put demands on his busy time, but when his little brother did, Hagrid knew that things were not going as well as Harry would have liked, and Hagrid had a fair idea why that might be. Ever since choosing to join Harry in France, Hagrid had kept up with the English news as best he could, not wanting to destroy all ties to the school that had been a home for most of his long life. He didn't regret leaving Hogwarts, because Harry had needed him, and he felt that Professor Dumbledore had betrayed him just as much as Harry by exiling the boy. Even if he'd ignored his heart and stayed in England, there was no way he'd have been able to continue working for the Headmaster. Not under those conditions anyway.

Hagrid still got the Daily Prophet, even though it was usually evening by the time his copy arrived. He had a standing order through Beaubaxtons, and as he wasn't the only member of staff to order it, his subscription was not noticed by the British Ministry, who would surely have interfered with him in some way given half the chance. The announcement of the Weasley's arrest – a footnote beneath the Quidditch scores – had presented him with something of a dilemma. Telling Harry would mean that his little brother would defy the Order of Exile to free the family, which could get him killed. Not telling Harry and leaving them there was also not an option and Hagrid had started making tentative plans to do something about it himself.

The slightly bigger announcement that Remus Lupin and Severus Snape had apparently been abducted unlawfully from their home was the first indicator to Hagrid that things were afoot. Harry had sent him a letter not long after to confirm that he was behind the 'abduction' and that he was now aware of the Weasley's plight. Harry had ended the letter with a promise not to do anything rash, and Hagrid had hoped that his little brother was going through legal channels to try and get the family released.

He should have known better. Two weeks after Harry's letter about the Weasley's situation, there was another fuss in the paper about how they'd been broken from the Ministry's 'protective custody' by none other than Dark Lord Potter, working in collusion with the Son of Merlin. Hagrid had been reading about that particular Dark Lord with some concern, but again he'd put off mentioning it to Harry, not wanting to put the young man under undue stress. England was a forbidden topic between them, not because Harry was angry or bitter, but because they were both homesick despite their best efforts.

Hagrid had no doubt in his mind that Harry Potter was firmly on the side of the Light. There had never been a moment when he'd wondered if his little brother was going over to the Dark; he had never hesitated or wavered in his opinion that Harry Potter was a credit to himself and his parents, a stalwart, law abiding and righteous young man. The reports that he was in collusion with the Son of Merlin had angered Hagrid intensely, and he'd been hard pressed to restrain himself from sending off several rather pointed Howlers on the subject. You hadn't heard loud until you'd heard Hagrid in a Howler, that was what Harry always said, and Hagrid had sent him one or two upon discovery of the occasional reckless action. Said actions had lessened since the arrival of Davy and his miraculous siblings, much to Hagrid's relief.

The Son of Merlin had also been enraged, apparently, because he'd started attacking people left right and centre, leaving messages that he was not involved with Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. The Daily Prophet had a field day with the news, stirring up as much fear and alarm as it possibly could, and Hagrid had despaired for the folk in his homeland. The Ministry had never been too good at controlling the press appropriately, and it was the common folk that would end up with the rough end of the stick if something wasn't done soon.

As long as it wasn't Harry that did it. Hagrid was firmly of the opinion that Harry was in the right to deny the Ministry the assistance it had requested and to continue to distance himself from the situation in England. Hagrid was the uncle of eight children who would be devastated if their Daddy got himself killed helping people who hated him, and Hagrid himself knew that he would be heartbroken if so much as a hair was harmed on Harry's head.

The last letter sent had been a request for his company in the face of so many Weasley's, and Hagrid had been more than happy to inform Olympe that he needed to leave at the end of the week, a full week before the school term ended. Olympe also had a soft spot for Harry, possibly because of the events in the Tri Wizard Tournament, but more likely because she'd gotten to know Harry as he recovered in Hagrid's rooms above her stables. Hagrid couldn't prove it, but he knew that they had conspired together to get him to finish his schooling.

Hagrid was also looking forward to seeing the Weasley's, Lupin and Snape for himself. He was a great believer in family love, which the Weasley's had in abundance, and he'd always liked Snape, despite the Potion Masters irascible temper. Olympe had not been adverse to the idea of him leaving to see to his family and friends, and Hagrid had finished the school week thoroughly, putting his classes through early exams to ensure that their education wasn't affected. He planned to mark the tests in Harry's camp, which would ease his own conscience. His copy of the Daily Prophet arrived just as the last class of the day was ending and he'd spent at least ten minutes sitting at his desk in complete shock, trying to take in the screaming headlines.

'Albus Dumbledore Destroyed at the Hands of the Son of Merlin'

'Hogwarts Wards Mysteriously Reworked – Dumbledore's final gift?'

It had taken him several read through to take in the disastrous information, and then he'd leapt for his door, Fang scrambling arthritically behind him, headed for the edge of the school wards so that he could begin his journey to Harry. His little brother had something to do with the events at Hogwarts, he was sure of it. He could only hope that Harry hadn't been hurt defending the school and the children housed within it.

At the moment, the only way to find out for sure was to track the man down and give him the biggest hug he could. So naturally, that was what he was going to do.

0o0o0o0

Dinner with Harry and his children had been a pleasure, and Arthur had been very honoured that Trinket had decided to leave Harry in his hands once the children were in bed. The Goblin had promised to be back later in the evening, and Harry had spent the short space of time between the children's bedtime and his own sitting beside Arthur, sharing family stories from his photo albums. Arthur had soaked them up like a sponge, and was eager for more, though he was careful not to press too hard for more information. He didn't want Harry to feel that he was being interrogated or judged in any way, as that was a sure-fire method for prompting estrangement between them.

Harry had been very tired, and Arthur had taken it upon himself to see the young man to bed, tucking him in, just as he would with his own children. No matter how old they got, Arthur would still tuck in a member of his family if they were feeling under the weather and were in his care. His children thought it was funny, and his daughter in laws found it 'endearing'. He didn't care, he'd missed a lot of bedtimes when they were growing up and he was working overtime to make ends meet. He knew that they didn't need it now that they were older, but that didn't stop him.

Over breakfast, which was the only meal of the day that he spent entirely alone with his wife, Molly broached the subject of where they would settle now that they had left the Burrow. He'd been expecting that, it didn't take someone as smart as young Hermione to work out that his children were worried about them, and together they discussed their options. Molly was very happy to learn that Harry had also made enquiries about their future on their behalf, and was more than happy for Arthur to further investigate the position offered at Gringott's. They would need to hold off on settling anywhere until they knew where the training and work was going to be.

Molly decided that she was going to ask for a look at the photo albums, and Arthur decided that he wouldn't mind a more extensive nose through them either, and together they left the tent, furnished with the Burrow's familiar belongings, in search of their wayward boy. The death of Dumbledore was the only thing they hadn't discussed yet, and Arthur knew his wife well enough to know that she wasn't ready to deal with the situation just at the minute. He wasn't either.

Harry wasn't difficult to find, he and the children were still in their tent, performing the morning ritual of eat breakfast, get dressed, start playing. It was a weekend, so there was no school for them to be going to, and Harry seemed as eager to spend time with his children as they were with him. Molly and Arthur were welcomed enthusiastically, and the photo albums were hauled out before they even had a chance to ask.

"I had a feeling that you'd be back, dad," Harry had laughed, and Arthur refused to apologise for his curiosity. The three of them sat on the couch, and while the children joined in or opted out at their own discretion, the two Weasley's caught up on ten years worth of Harry's life. Molly was particularly taken with the pictures of Harry later in his pregnancy. There was one taken prior to each birth, and if the Harry in the pictures blushed shyly, his hands hovering protectively over his belly, the one on the couch looked like he wanted to hide.

"Hagrid insisted on seeing how I was," he explained, "And since he couldn't be there for each birth, this was the next best thing."

"I'm glad someone was here to worry over you," Molly smiled and enveloped Harry in a hug that made the man's ears go red. Abby and Evan wandered over requesting hugs too, and they were soon buried under giggling children.

"Now then, what's all this?" a rough voice asked from behind them, and the children ran to meet the new visitor. Harry's face also lit up, and Arthur finally understood why people didn't use a chime or bell to indicate visitors. Using the visitors own voice was a much more personal way to announce their presence; after a lifetime of impersonal treatment and unwanted hero worship, Harry would of course favour anything that allowed him to connect better to the people around him.

"Hagrid!"

"Yer not trying to smother yer dad again, are you?" Hagrid beamed as he greeted Harry's children. Harry had jumped up as well, and was pulled into a hug, then shaken lightly.

"Yer've been up to something," Hagrid mock growled, "The news from England is… hysterical."

"I suppose," Harry sighed and glanced back at Arthur and Molly, "We'll talk about it later."

The promise included his adopted parents, and Arthur smiled when he spotted May and Lily rolling their eyes and complaining about 'secret adult talks' together.

0o0o0o0

Hagrid was relieved that his first sight of Harry showed no injuries or lingering stresses. Molly and Arthur were visiting when he arrived in Harry's home, and from the pile of albums on the table it appeared that the Weasley elders were trying to catch up with Harry's life. Hagrid made a mental note to add his own stories to the albums at a later date and announced his arrival to the family. He was inundated with nieces and nephews, all of whom seemed intent on hugging him simultaneously; not for the first time, he counted himself lucky to be as large as he was, it meant there was more of him to go around.

Harry laughed and rescued him, moving in for a hug of his own. No matter how much Hagrid loved Harry's children, it was still his little brother that he loved the best. Some might say that was wrong of him, and Hagrid would never express the sentiment aloud, but that was how he felt and it couldn't be helped.

"Yer lookin' peaky," Hagrid muttered in Harry's ear and Harry scoffed lightly, a fond light in his eye when he pulled back from their hug. Hagrid tutted once in a reproving fashion and then went to say hello to Molly and Arthur while Harry organised the children into games and mid morning snacks. The very youngest would probably have a nap before lunch, which the snack heralded.

"I've had the news from England," Hagrid muttered as he sat in his accustomed armchair, "It's not too clear what happened."

"Harry can tell you," Molly sighed, looking over at the dark haired man as he patiently settled his children and dealt with the usual minor rivalries and questions. Hagrid knew for a fact that he was feeling the strain, but he was projecting a wonderfully calm and serene front to his children. To the trained observer there were a myriad of clues in his voice and eyes.

"Perhaps it would be better if you two did," Hagrid said quietly, "Save him the retelling."

He noted that both Arthur and Molly looked a little startled at the idea that Harry needed to be spared, and made a mental note to set the Weasley family straight on a few things with regards to the treatment he expected for the leader of the Potter Herd. That little joke between them had stuck, and he took delight in it. After all, not many people could boast the intimacy that allowed for 'in jokes' with Harry and his family. Apart from his team, Harry still preferred to remain very much in the shadows, allowing others to take the limelight and attention in his place whenever it was feasible.

Arthur leaned over and gave Hagrid the bare bones of the events surrounding Professor Dumbledore's death. Part of Hagrid grieved for his old mentor, for the kindly man who'd taken him in and ensured that the orphaned half giant had a roof over his head when things were at their blackest. Another part of him was relieved that the castle he'd called home for so many years was now safe from attack and able to defend herself and the children as needed. The largest part of him was worried about his brother and the strains that his actions had put him under, not just physically but emotionally as well. Harry might joke about it, but Hagrid always worried that his little brother was not as strong as he wanted everyone to think.

"What do the papers say, Hagrid?" Harry asked as Arthur sat back and Hagrid glanced up at his brother before patting the arm of his chair. Harry wouldn't sit on his lap in front of anyone, in fact it took some cajoling in private, but he would sit close to Hagrid if asked, and the Magizoologist wanted to have his little brother close for a while.

"That the Son of Merlin has murdered the Headmaster of Hogwarts in a brutal fashion, and that Dumbledore somehow managed to rework the school wards so that nothing Dark could enter her halls. They're lauding Dumbledore for his self sacrifice, and wondering how long it will be before the Ministry falls to the Son of Merlin and his lads," Hagrid rumbled gently. Harry sighed and shook his head.

"Harry, you mustn't go back ever again, no matter who calls fer you," Hagrid pressed his point anxiously, "Yer've got too much to loose."

"I know," Harry nodded, "I won't be going back to her. Hogwarts has promised not to call for me again, and I've no intention of doing anything about the Son of Merlin. That sounds callous…"

"It sounds wise," Hagrid interrupted, "They tole yer to leave, they made their bed, now they have to lie in it."

"Besides, I love my babies too much to leave them," Harry smiled and wrapped a thin arm around Hagrid's shoulders, leaning into his side easily, "I've got too much to live for, and people depending on me. Don't worry brother, I'm not going to interfere with England any more. Especially now that everyone I care for is free of the Ministry's control."

"Good," Hagrid grunted, wrapping his own arm around Harry and ignoring the Weasley's for a moment, "At least I won't 'ave to move out 'ere an' keep an eye on yer."

Harry laughed and squeezed his neck in a friendly manner. Arthur and Molly smiled as well, no doubt as pleased as Hagrid was to know that Harry had decided to put England behind him where it belonged. Exile was only a burden when the one being exiled refused to make a new life. Harry was far too smart to allow the past to weigh him down any more. And with the arrival of the Weasley's it was even possible that the return of the one he loved would see the final seal on his happiness. Hagrid was planning to keep a discreet eye on _that_ situation.

0o0o0o0

Next – Lily observes important things


	7. Chapter 7

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Disclaimer – they're not mine already? Why not?

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**Lily and Ron**

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Her family were making an awful lot of noise as they cavorted in the water, but Lily had long since become deaf to the 'family roar', and it didn't bother her. In fact, if they'd all gone quiet _then_ she'd have worried. Her brothers and sisters were very good at marauding through an area, and the fact that they were currently swimming in a specially warded part of the source of the Nile didn't in any way change their approach. They laughed and called to each other, playing together and inviting each other to join in, to come and see, to look out. Lily preferred not to swim, though there was no particular reason for it. She could swim quite well, Daddy had insisted on it, and there was no lingering or fresh trauma to prevent her from joining her family in the water. She just didn't like the lake that much, and Daddy was happy for her to sit on the shore, as long as she was safe, comfortable and not bored. Their Daddy had a thing about his children keeping occupied, and happy. He was always coming up with little games for them to play, hobbies for them to try and skills for them to master.

Lily was caught up in her favourite hobby at the moment, which was sketching. Daddy said that she had quite a bit of talent, and had bought her several books that taught you how to draw properly, and also gave her lovely sketch books to draw in, with leather covers that had been dyed various beautiful colours and then had patterns carved in them as well. She was drawing Daddy and Evan as they threw a ball to each other, Evan standing knee deep in the water and shouting happily.

The sun was shining, the water was crystal clear and the plants and wildlife around them were vibrantly beautiful. It even smelt good here, and she wished that there was a way to capture the scents and sounds around her as well as the sights. Aunt Frannie said that she had a wonderful eye for light and movement, and Lily had to admit that she was very good a 'catching a moment'. Her sketches were like quick photo's, without the independent movement.

Evan's hair was bright pink today, and she had just the pencil for it, adding additional shades of white and red to give the spiky effect of her little brothers wet hair. She put the pencil down when she was satisfied and looked at the picture of her Daddy carefully. He had a lot of marks and lines on his body, and she thought it was important that she get all of them just exactly right. They were part of Daddy's past, and he always said that history was important. Davy was probably going to end up doing something related to history – he read almost as much as Daddy did.

"Alright, Lily?" Daddy's voice broke into her thoughts and she nodded, lifting her face to smile. He'd moved out of the water while she was thinking, and picked up a towel to rub himself dry. Even though Daddy knew a lot of really great magic spells, he still liked to do things by hand sometimes. It was as if he knew how nice it was to have someone pet or cuddle you while they looked after you, instead of just having a spell waved over you.

"May I see your picture?" Daddy asked and Lily opened the book at once. She very rarely said no when Daddy asked, and he never looked without her permission. There was one sketch book with an angry red colour that Lily never let anyone look in. It held the pictures from her bad dreams, and she didn't want anyone to see them. Jimmy had terrible nightmares sometimes and Blue Dreams as well. Lily hadn't really understood why her big brother had them, and she knew that Daddy was sad about them. She and Jimmy looked more like each other than the rest of their family, even though they were the only ones named for Daddy's mum and dad. Lily had once heard someone use the word adoption, and she wasn't sure what that really meant. It didn't matter; Daddy loved her as much as May and Beth and Abby, and she was a Potter just like the rest of them, no matter how she looked.

"This is beautiful, Lily," Daddy pulled her into his lap, and she went happily. Daddy was a cuddle monster sometimes, and they'd all learnt to just give in and be cuddled. It didn't hurt and it made Daddy happy.

"I did another," Lily offered, snuggling into his warm chest and rubbing light fingers over a scar that looked just like the one on his forehead. He shivered, like he always did when Lily or her brothers and sisters touched it, and flipped the page back once to see the other picture.

Daddy had brought the rest of the family to the camp a little while ago, and most of them had red hair. Lily loved watching them all, because they were new people for her to sketch. She'd noticed that Daddy spent a lot of time with one of the new people especially, and even when Daddy wasn't sitting next to her new uncle, he was watching him. Davy and Jimmy liked Uncle Ron because he made brooms, something that they were nutty over, and Kit liked Uncle Ron because he was a cuddler like Daddy. Kit was going to be a cuddle monster too, and everyone knew the quickest way to make Stripy go away and get Kit back was to cuddle with him and whisper in his ear.

Lily had drawn the picture of Uncle Ron so he was smiling, something he did a lot when he spotted Daddy. He'd also smiled a lot when playing with Lily and her brothers and sisters, so they all liked him much better than Aunt Hermione. She was a bit strict and didn't seem to understand the rules about marauding. Daddy ran a finger down the edge of the page and dropped a kiss on Lily's hair, which told her that he was especially pleased with this picture. Lily was very proud of it, because it had turned out so well; she thought it was her best picture yet.

"That is perfectly Uncle Ron," he murmured, "Well done, my artist."

That was Daddy's special name for her, like Stripy was the special name for Kit, and Jimmy-Jim was for her second biggest brother. Lily beamed up from her Daddy's lap and leaned into his chest when he hugged her. She remembered that he hadn't had a chance to look at her pictures for a while and so she turned back to the last picture she'd shown him and began talking about what she'd drawn. There was even one of Madge there, Davy's pet Tamarind who had passed away not so long ago. Daddy always listened to her explanations of how she'd got the pictures to look the way she did, and asked questions too. He wasn't a bad artist either, though he spent more time drawing maps and making records than he did drawing properly.

There was a shout, and Daddy looked up to see what mischief Beth and Jimmy had gotten into. Davy was laughing, and Abby was giggling, so whatever they'd done couldn't be too bad.

There was usually _some_ mischief when they were all marauding. It was like a family rule.

0o0o0o0

Ron had found Harry's Herd at lunch and had been invited to their table without a second thought. It was make or break time for him. The rest of the family were about to go their separate ways, and he didn't want to leave Harry behind. It had barely been a week since Harry had rescued his family and in that short space of time Ron had seen so much of his world change. He'd seen his father cured of a curse that had been killing him slowly for two years. He'd re-established his business as an independent broomwright, with Harry's careful guidance. His father had been offered a job in an entirely new career, and the Weasley's had prepared to go their separate ways. The twins were taking their families to Italy, Bill was returning to Egypt while Fleur took the children to France. Ginny and Draco were also going home to France, and his parents were going to Germany of all places. His dad's training would be completed there, and then they would probably relocate to Spain.

With the European travel laws the way they were, the scattering of the Weasley's would be no obstacle to their family. It was no difficulty to establish an international family node for the Floo, and Harry had already helped his mother do that. All they had to do was use a Floo powder that had a burnt hair from one of the Weasley's, and use a particular password. They'd still be able to come home for the Sunday roast, much more easily than they had in England. The tradition had been a bit of a burden in England, but Ron had the feeling that it would become a much happier obligation now that they weren't worried they'd be arrested over pudding for daring to wonder about a missing member of their family, or for discussing travel plans.

Ron had already been approached by a German company for one of his designs, and wanted to take them up on their offer. It would mean a solid year of work; the only thing to yet be decided was where he would do that work. It may have seemed like a simple thing to decide, after all the company was in Germany and part of the offer included accommodation if he needed it. Ron couldn't give them an answer on that part of the deal until he'd talked to Harry. He still loved his friend, and wanted to be a part of his life in whatever role would best suit Harry. He'd be a friend of the family, a brother and uncle, or a lover given half the chance. He just wasn't sure what Harry wanted from him, and today was the day he was going to find out.

He'd been an awkward teen when he and Harry had last been in the same room, one that had been faced with a battle he wasn't sure he'd survive. He'd taken a stunner early in the battle, and luckily fallen into a ditch which hid him from the Death Eaters until he'd woken. Voldemort had been defeated, and lay dead on the battle field, and the Death Eaters had been killed, caught or fled the scene. Harry was in St Mungo's suffering horrific battle wounds, and by the time Ron managed to get out of his mothers relieved clutches, his friend had been exiled.

Ron had grown up since then, and so had Harry. That was to be expected, neither of them had lived in a bottle, preserved for all time like one of Snape's creatures. They'd both had other lovers and Harry had borne seven children, accrued enough people around him to make a small city, and built a family to replace the one he'd lost.

Ron liked Harry's team. They were good people, they loved Harry and they accepted the Weasley's on their own merits, as well as for Harry's sake. Ron was grateful that Harry had found people to love him, and bother him, and be strict with him. Even if he was the father of eight children and unofficial mayor of a city that he'd founded, Harry still needed someone to look out for him. Ron was hoping that he would be the one Harry chose to do that now.

Lunch over, the children scattered to various pursuits. The twins went to bed for their afternoon nap, and Kit followed not long after. Davy and Jim were collected by friends to play a game, and the three remaining girls also disappeared to spend some time with various friends. Harry curled up on the couch with a cup of tea and Ron sat down with him, wondering how best to approach what was on his mind.

"Just spit it out, Ron," Harry grinned at him, and Ron blushed a little, still unused to his friends ability to take two and two and come up roses. He'd always known that Harry was smart, but his friend had hidden it carefully when he was a teen; being underestimated had been an important part of his defences, it had likely saved his life. Here his intelligence was worn on his sleeve for all to see, not in a boastful way, more as a function of his everyday life. It was easy to see why the people living in Harry's tent city automatically deferred to him as mayor – he carried an aura of power and compassionate intelligence that made you trust him long before you knew him as a person.

"Harry… the family is planning to head for their homes, or at least to set up their homes, in the next week," Ron sighed, "I've got a job offer in Germany and they're offering to help me with finding suitable accommodation if I want it…"

"Is it part of the conditions of the offer that you take up the accommodation?" Harry asked quietly, keeping his eyes on his cup of tea. Ron sighed and shook his head.

"No, and I don't want to leave, Harry. I want to be here, with you… however you want me," Ron took a deep breath and waited, Gryffindor habits dying hard. Harry sipped his tea once, and then put the cup on the table.

"I'd like to have you here too," Harry dropped his hands loosely onto his lap and met Ron's eyes, "I do love you Ron, and I never stopped. I've missed you so much, and I want you in my life. My children like you already, and with time they'll love you I'm sure. I don't want to lose you, and I don't want to pressure you, but I want you Ron. In my life as a friend, in my family… as my lover if you want it, as my brother if you…"

Ron cut him off, leaning in and kissing him quiet; bringing one hand up to stroke Harry's cheek tenderly, his heart pounding in jubilation. This was everything he wanted and more.

"I'll let them know that my living arrangements have been sorted," Ron said softly, "Maybe… we should ease into this. I mean, I'll spend as much time with you as I can, but until we know how the kids will …"

"Yes," Harry smiled and nuzzled his cheek gently, a touch of relief in his eyes that Ron was willing to acknowledge the importance of Harry's children in this life change, "You'll need to have your own workspace anyway. We get a little noisy in here, and the children are old enough now to be particularly curious about other people's work. I've got my desk in the library, but ever since they got old enough to be nosy I've had to set up my second office for myself in my old tent. Which works surprisingly well for the times I've had to bring work home…?"

Ron shut him up with another kiss. He could get used to this. From the way Harry settled into the kiss it was evident that his future lover would too.

0o0o0o0

At dinner that night, Lily found her way into her fathers lap again, watching as her four eldest brothers and sisters went marauding while the youngest went to bed under Uncle Hagrid's watchful eye, with Mr Dobby and Missus Winky assisting him. Lily had settled into her Daddy's lap and curled into his chest, one ear resting above the reassuring thump of his heart. He had wrapped both arms around her comfortably, and sometimes one of his hands rubbed her back gently, like he didn't even remember he was doing it. One of her hands had crept up his sleeve and her fingers traced over the scar that circled around his bicep. Daddy didn't seem to mind when his children touched the scars or marks on his body, and Lily and her siblings had a whispered idea between them that the love they gave to those scars stopped them from hurting their Daddy. She really hoped that was true, because Daddy had lots of odd marks and scars.

Something had happened between Daddy and Uncle Ron this afternoon while she and her siblings were out playing or napping. When they'd left the tent, Daddy and Uncle Ron were sitting on the couch, talking. When they'd come back to wash their faces before dinner Daddy and Uncle Ron had been cuddling on the couch, the way that Daddy cuddled with his babies. Uncle Ron had been called away to have dinner with his mum and dad, but he'd given her Daddy such a look. Lily had spent a lot of time figuring out what each expression meant on peoples faces so that she could draw them better, and that look meant he didn't want to go. Lily had almost run after him to tell him that he would see them at dinner tonight, because it was a communal one, but Daddy had called her back to wash her face, and Lily only rarely disobeyed her Daddy.

Once dinner was over, the adults got up to do their own version of marauding, which was mainly swapping seats and talking while their children played. Uncle Armando came and sat opposite Daddy, topping up his wine glass and then waving his wand casually over her. She gave him an indignant look, but didn't protest. Once Uncle Armando got to waving his wand then it was best to just sit still and let him get over it. Protesting wouldn't get them anywhere, and even Daddy just let him do what he wanted when he was in the middle of his 'I'm a Healer so just sit still' thing. Jimmy stopped beside them and gave Uncle Armando an anxious gaze. Jimmy always worried about her, and she gave him the same patient look she'd given Uncle Armando.

"I think someone is up past her bedtime," Uncle Armando chuckled and Lily ducked her face back into Daddy's chest. Daddy chuckled and petted her hair again. Jimmy laughed too and ran back to his game. Lily hid a smile of her own; her big brother was so predictable in his own way.

When Lily looked up from her Daddy's chest, Uncle Ron had come back to sit with them. He was beside Uncle Armando and the two of them were talking about the camp and how Uncle Ron would be able to manage travelling to meet with the broom people that he was now working for. Lily was pleased that he was staying, because Daddy was a little more relaxed than he had been before, and although she liked her new grandparents, she would like going to visit them more than if they were staying in camp. Everyone else went away from the camp to visit their grandparents, and now Lily could too.

The fact that she thought that Daddy was a bit lonely sometimes, and wasn't when Uncle Ron was around was all to the good as far as she was concerned.

0o0o0o0

Ron was sort of relieved when the last of the Weasley's disappeared with their port keys. His Mum had been rather ambivalent about them all going in so many different directions at the last minute, and she'd worried about leaving Harry and his Herd as well. Hagrid had pointed out very firmly that Harry had lots of people to turn to if and when he needed it, and that Ron himself was there to represent the Weasley clan, and then had pointedly put Molly's hand on the port key. Ron's dad had quickly secured it there with his own and they'd disappeared a few seconds later, Hagrid's chuckles rumbling in their ears. Harry had looked a little relieved too, and then worried when Ron had caught him doing so.

"I love that woman, but she can fuss," Ron had said soothingly, "She'll be fine once they've started unpacking, Harry. Give mum something to do and she stops worrying almost at once."

"I bow to your expertise in this area," Harry replied dryly and Ron had laughed. Bill and Fleur left with Ginny and Draco, intending to use their Floo connection to get home, and the Twins had left next in a noisy tangle of children and spouses. Tonks and Katie had known exactly what they were getting into when they'd agreed to the double wedding, and Ron had to admire their courage. The twins had calmed a lot under the mantle of marriage and children, and that was mainly due to their wives steady influence.

Hermione left next, hugging Harry hard and smiling at him. There had been no confrontation or discussion about his decision to go into exile, but Ron knew that Hermione had come to terms with her friend's decision. Perhaps seeing the life that Harry had built for himself, and hearing so many stories of him from his team, who loved to gossip about their boss, and made a point of doing so, had helped her put the decision into perspective. Ron knew that Charlie had also talked to Hermione about her beliefs and was glad to see that the slight reserve she'd treated Harry with had faded away. They'd spent some time together, the Trio reunited, talking over the past and sharing plans for the future, and Hermione had been happy when Harry had confided that Ron had accepted his proposal to join his family. Ron had been startled by the wording, but quick to realise that if everything worked out he'd want to be hand fasted with his love.

Part of him was already looking forward to planning that day.

With the last of the Weasley's departed safely, Ron found himself inundated with Potters, who evidently felt that he would be lonely and missing the rest of his clan. Jimmy and Davy had ulterior motives, as they were fascinated by his work, and Ron soon found himself too busy playing with his future children to be worried about the upheavals his life had recently been through. Eventually life would settle into a new routine, made all the sweeter for having Harry and his Herd in it. Ron could hardly believe that he had finally been reunited with his hearts desire and sometimes woke in the night wondering if it had all been a dream. Then the walls of his tent would reassure him that he was indeed in Harry's camp and Ron would grin and go back to sleep. He was looking forward to the day that he would wake beside Harry.

Harry disappeared from the game after an hour or so, called away by Trinket, and Ron was pleased that the children showed no sign of being disappointed in spending time with him alone. He was determined to make a good beginning on the road to being a family, so he started as he meant to go on, adopting Harry's style of firm and gentle discipline. He knew that he was in the period of grace that children instinctively offered before really testing the boundaries and Harry had already warned him not to let them get away with anything.

"I love them all dearly, but there are times I wouldn't trust them as far as I can throw them," Harry had laughed, "They can be very devious when trying to get their own way, not that I have to tell them no often. They do know what they are allowed to have or do and they're used to staying in the boundaries. The rest of your knowledge will have to come from experience…"

And Ron was looking forward to all that experience, even the not so pleasant bits. He knew how to be part of a large family, he had been all his life, and there was nothing frightening in the idea of helping Harry bring up his Herd. At the end of the day, Ron knew in his heart that no child of Harry Potter could possibly be anything other than unusual, unique and accustomed to living life to the best of their ability.

That was a challenge that he would tackle eagerly.

0o0o0o0

Next – how did _he_ get here… and how shall we make him go away?


	8. Chapter 8

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Disclaimer – 'nuff said.

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**Severus and Remus**

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Severus hardly had time to notice the absence of the Weasley's in the whirl of the final preparations for the new Academy. Potter had handed him the sort of challenge that he desired the most, that of making something out of nothing. The power of his position was also alluring, and the knowledge that he would be known internationally as Headmaster a stroke to his not inconsiderable ego. The fact that Remus was also at his side, joining him in the struggle to establish a new school entirely from scratch was the final ingredient in the potion. He did not say it, and rarely showed it, but Remus was very important to him, and the werewolf's absence from his daily activities was something he actively strove to prevent.

Of course it didn't hurt that Remus was an excellent bed partner, and seemed immune to his tempers and bad habits. That the werewolf was also more than capable of handling the social niceties for them both was just another of many virtues. Not that Severus made it a habit to extol his lovers virtues to anyone, his lover included.

The youngest male Weasley had of course remained; you would have to have been blind to miss the love sick looks and mooning sighs that Ronald Weasley lavished upon the Brat Who Lived. This attachment was apparently returned, though Potter had at least learned a modicum of decorum in public, and kept the reciprocal looks and sighs to a minimum. The Brats brats were well behaved for children their age being raised by a single parent in a tent, and Severus could see that teaching the eldest of the 'Herd', a ridiculous term he used only under protest, would be a challenge at least. David Potter seemed to be quite advanced for his age group, and whenever he wasn't marauding around the camp being a noisy nuisance the boy had his nose in a book. Unlike the Granger chit, he didn't boast about his knowledge or seek to bore others with it, so perhaps he would be tolerable in a classroom.

The communal dinners continued to be mandatory, though eating dinner with his fellow professors was not such a strain. Severus had long since mastered the art of eating with colleagues, and this mastery stood him in good stead now. It was interesting to see that the other members of the camp broke from their guilds to sit with family or friends, and managed to ignore the noise of the attached spouses and children, something that he had been forced to learn quickly. He was used to the children being at least a little distance away when he ate, not sitting next to him dribbling peas down the inside of his sleeve.

All those years spent as a spy still had him monitoring the people around him, and so it was that he noticed the quite discrete withdrawal of Potter, the Goblin Trinket and the rest of Potter's team. Hagrid remained with Potter's Herd, and Severus wondered what on earth had called them away in the middle of a community meal.

He tugged on Remus' frayed sleeve discretely, emptied the accumulated peas subtly down the back of his dinner partner's neck and chivvied his lover away into the shadows before anyone could register their movement. The tightness of his grip must have communicated his concerns to his werewolf, because Remus made an especial effort to be quiet and didn't ask the dozen questions clearly hovering on the tip of his tongue. At times such as this he thought Remus' association with Slytherin had improved the man greatly.

"Potter has disappeared with most of his team," Severus threw the man a bone as a reward for his quiet, "I want to know what…"

"Shh," Harry breathed from the shadows, startling both men quite badly. Severus in particular had always prided himself on his ability to detect people hiding in the shadows, and this failure did not sit well with him. Although the war had been over for years he had not felt that his skills as a spy had atrophied at all, and Potter had never been able to take him by surprise before. It was apparent that Severus had indeed underestimated his former pupil and he made a mental note not to do so again.

"There is a group of persons at the edge of the wards. The magic they are using is quite Dark," Harry stepped forward, his eyes glinting quite dangerously in the low light. If Severus hadn't known better he'd have been intimidated, "The team and I are going to put a stop to whatever it is they are planning. From what little we could see, I think that they are affiliated with the Son of Merlin."

Severus scowled bitterly, the fragile sense of peace he had felt in Potter's camp shattering with the news. The Son of Merlin and Britain were supposed to be behind them now, not popping up to interfere with the plans for his new school and his lover's peace.

"We'll go with you," Remus said at once, and Severus resigned himself to tagging along to protect his impetuous and unfortunately still quite Gryffindor lover. If so much as a hair was harmed on Remus' greying head Potter would be in a world of trouble, the magnitude of which he'd never before known.

"Ron and Hagrid are aware of the situation and are poised to warn the people at the tables on our signal. All of the communal furniture is a port key to a safer location, one that I change at random intervals. All the community have to do is stay seated and they'll be safe. The wards have erected a subtle set of shields around them to keep them in the area, just in case."

This was a plan that even Severus could approve of. As long as the community were in contact with the tables or benches they would be transported, and the communal area was in the centre of the tent city, which meant that it could be activated long before any invader reached it. Additionally the shields would ensure that the children couldn't stray too far from their protectors and would give the adults a warning should anyone slip past the camps defenders. Severus was also impressed that Potter had persuaded Weasley to stay out of the fight, though he had probably played upon the red heads role in protecting Potter's children to ensure compliance.

Potter's hand waved them forward and Severus was slightly miffed that Remus fell in behind the brat so easily. He moved into position to give his lover the most cover and himself the best position from which to gather intelligence and ghosted between the rows of tents. Only this morning the encampment had seemed perfectly safe and homely. Now the tents were treated with suspicion, as if any one of them were concealing the enemy from the defending Witches and Wizards. Remus had his wand out and was scenting the air, using his werewolf enhanced senses to locate their prey, and Potter's wand was also in his hand, though it was pointed down at the ground. Severus was tempted to scold the brat, and tell him to position his wand for defence, but realised that they were too close to the edge of the camp to do so. If Remus was hurt because Potter wasn't ready to defend him, the Severus would put the man down hard, employer or not.

A mustard coloured curse came arrowing out of the darkness, one that Severus recognised as intended to sever limbs and prevent clotting, headed for the men in front of him. Before either he or his lover could react there was a shield dispelling the curse safely into the ground and Potter was moving through the darkness, lost from sight in a few seconds, discernable only by the light of the spells he was casting in rapid order, retaliating against the cowardly attack. In short order Severus had his back to Remus' and was adding his own spells into the almost silent fray, deflecting a series of Dark curses. This was close quarter work the like of which he'd been engaged in during the last hours of the war, and the old skills and spells rose to the fore easily.

"They've breached the perimeter!" Remus gasped when there was a lull, and Potter replied from the darkness.

"It was only a four man team. We've put them out of commission," his voice was calm and not at all out of breath, damn him, "And the rest of the camp are safely out of harms way."

That meant the port key had been activated, and Severus felt some of the tension leave Remus at the news. His Gryffindor was ridiculously soft hearted when it came to children, a reason that Severus was glad that they were not ever having any of their own. Remus' curse had seen to that, though there was the slightest possibility that his lover had fathered pups during his moon-time. Severus really didn't want to think about that.

"How did they get in?" Remus asked, moving forward, wand once more at the ready. Severus wondered that as well. After all, the brat was supposed to be a Master Wardsman, and if he couldn't even ward his own camp effectively then the Potions Master wondered how on earth he'd ever accomplished anything in his job.

"Trinket let them in, to distract the others," Harry's voice was a little… off. It sounded distant and distracted, as if he was not entirely present in the conversation, "According to the signals he's set on the wards, he let in a small group in order to get the rest of the Son of Merlin's men to concentrate their efforts on an area of the defences that allowed the team the most cover and manoeuvrability. We're to join them when we're sure we've got these four incarcerated."

"Harry, concentrate," Remus admonished and Severus heard the almost invisible man take a deep breath, as if waking from a dream. It appeared that Potter had not overcome his tendency to lose himself in the deeper of magic's, though if Severus was honest few could resist the siren call of pure magic. It was an unfortunate fact that they needed Potter to immerse himself yet remain alert to his surroundings, a dichotomy that could not be avoided.

"Right," the brat sounded mildly embarrassed, the tone reminiscent of the teenager he'd been just before the Final Battle with Voldemort. Severus snorted in annoyance and followed his lover towards the flashes of spell light they could see a few tents away.

0o0o0o0

The wards were keeping the noise of the battle down to almost nothing, and Remus wondered if Harry had designed them that way to unnerve their opponents or keep the tent cities inhabitants from panicking in case of an attack. He made a mental note to ask Harry about it at some point and slid into place beside Severus, reading the rather pointed hand signals his lover sent him and establishing a common shield with him before joining the rest of Harry's team in disarming and incarcerating their attackers.

"How the hell did the Son of Merlin find us, Potter?" Ray's voice shouted across the area they were defending, and Remus had a sinking feeling that he could guess.

"When we catch him we'll ask!" the Goblin's rough voice replied, and Remus hoped that didn't mean Harry had been hurt and was incapable of speaking for himself. Severus would doubtless tell him he was being stupid, but Remus had an almost pathological fear of Harry getting hurt, especially in battle against a foe from England. Harry had, by all accounts, battled with several dark witches and wizards since his exile, and had always come through victorious, all without the supervision or assistance of one English werewolf. That didn't mean that Remus couldn't fret.

With Severus at his side, which in a battle Remus wanted no other, not even Harry there, they advanced steadily on the flank of the Son of Merlin and his forces. From the light of the battle, it appeared that Harry's team were also moving to flank the other Wizard, and Remus saw that they would soon have the enemy pinned against the wards, which would make them easier to contain and disarm. There were the remnants of a pentacle glowing near the edge of the wards, partly obscured by a glistening pool of red and a huddled body. Remus felt his gut contract a little: blood sacrifices would decimate most ward structures, and the fact that the wards were still standing was a testament to how good Harry's team were at precisely targeted attacks. The victim whose blood was barely powering the pentacle must have been killed before the sacrifice ever took hold. If the sacrifice had been even partially successful then the wards would be much weaker than they were now. As it was they were taking a hammering, with the Son of Merlin directing a veritable battery of spells against them in an effort to get at his foe.

"We're outnumbered," Severus pointed out, his voice slightly breathless. It was a reminder that they weren't as young as they used to be, and Remus felt another splinter of anxiety added to his burden, "It would be better to switch tactics from pinpointed spells to barrages."

Barrage spells required two closely matched people to cast simultaneously, first to create a spell nexus that would amplify the caster's power, and then to cast the desired battle spell, which was usually a stunner. He and Severus had made quite a team in the final battle against Voldemort, and together they were responsible for the capture of nearly half of the Death Eaters that had been there that day. The problem with barrages was that they took twice as long to cast as any other spell, and left the pair casting open to attack once the first part of the spell was incanted.

"Let's set up our cover," Remus muttered and stopped shooting hexes at their opponents long enough to conjure up some hefty blocks of wood that they could duck behind as needed. He took over from Severus, who reinforced the barrier and added a few protections of his own.

It was a moment's work to pick their first targets, and several moments work to cast their spell, ducking breathlessly into cover once the stunner burst forth, peering over the top of their barricade to see a swathe of witches and wizards crumple to the ground, their shields ineffective. Moments later they were under heavy hexing, the wooden barrier shuddering under the sheer number of spells being sent their way. It held though, and Remus grinned across at his lover cheekily.

"That got their attention!" he laughed at Severus' look of pointed disgust, and squirmed around carefully to take a look for their next target. Remus' Gryffindor side made him unfortunately cheerful in the face of personal danger, and no amount of lectures, scolding or pointed silence could change that about him despite Severus' best efforts.

"We should abandon this position," Severus announced, "If we fall back we can circle around to a slightly different area and reform our barrier. We should establish more than one of these locations so that we can cycle from one to the other at random."

"Ok," Remus nodded and they split up, rolling swiftly into the shadows cast by the tents. Remus ran doubled over, setting up a second barrier and reinforcing it with the spells that his lover favoured. Severus was a past master at battlements on the fly, and Remus had learned quickly. Moments after the final spell had been set Severus rejoined him and together they cast their second barrage stunner. This one left him feeling a little shaky, which was not unusual in the circumstances. The more often the spell was cast, the more energy it stripped from the caster, which made it limited in usefulness, unless you were informally hand fasted to a Potions Master, who always carried a very comprehensive round of potions with him, pepper up included.

They were casting for the fourth time when barrage stunners erupted from two other places within the wards, knocking out the remainder of their foe. The only one left standing was the Son of Merlin, and Remus gripped his lovers arm in shock when he realised precisely who was duelling with the self declared English Dark Lord.

0o0o0o0

Severus was more than a little miffed that Potter's much vaunted 'team' hadn't cast the barrage spell themselves a little sooner in the battle. He was loathe to admit it, but he wasn't as young as he used to be, and the barrage spell took a lot out of him now. Not to mention the strain it put on his prematurely aging werewolf. Severus had yet to accept that he would outlive his lover, hence his concentration on the Wolfs Bane potion and the variations of same. He was going to find a way to halt the transformation altogether, if not outright cure the disease or die trying. _Nothing_ was going to take Remus from him sooner than absolutely necessary. Severus Snape was possessive of his playthings, and he had _no intention _of sharing, not even with Death.

Once the last of the idiots outside Potter's formidable wards had fallen to the barrage spells, Remus stuck his fool head out of their meagre shelter and shuddered as if he'd been hexed. His grip on Severus' arm was going to leave bruises at this rate and for a moment he indulged himself in the minor fantasy of himself hexing the man's fingers off. Unfortunately the werewolf had learned the fine art of massage somewhere along the way, and those fingers were in high demand after he'd been hunched over a cauldron for twenty or so hours. He was not one to cut his nose off to spite his face, though there were people out there that would say the absence of said nose could only be an improvement.

"Severus, look!" Remus gasped, and Severus hauled himself cautiously to the edge of their battered barrier to peer over Remus' greying head. He rested his pointed chin on top of said head in surprise, pulling the man closer as his brain registered what he was looking at. Remus was breathing heavily and shaking slightly, and Severus automatically catalogued the contest of his potions case for something to ease his lover even as he watched the fantastic events unfolding in front of him.

Potter and the Son of Merlin were duelling, but neither man was alone. The Brat was moving fluidly, or as fluidly as possible with a permanent limp, almost dancing as he ducked and dodged the other mans hexes, returning spell for spell with lethal accuracy. It was only a matter of time before the Brat wore his opponent down and triumphed, so poor was the other mans form. Doubtless that was why the Son of Merlin had called two minor fire demons to battle with him. Fire demons were easiest to control, as killing them was simply a matter of extinguishing their flames, but they were notoriously quick and difficult to pin down. Their main method of attack was to simply spray fire everywhere, and it was obvious that the Son of Merlin had settled some very hefty protection spells about himself as the excitable demons were very indiscriminate in their selection of their targets.

There was no way that Potter could have known that the man had called such demons to himself ahead of time, and therefore the Brat should have been particularly well-done by now if not for the two figures battling beside him. While their master concentrated on disarming and disabling the Son of Merlin, the two House Elves battling at his side shielded him from the fire demons attacks, shooting water charms and air blasts at their foe with deadly accuracy, switching off and protecting themselves and their master in a flawlessly worked pattern. Already the skeletal forms of the demons were apparent beneath their fiery carapace, and even as Severus watched one of the demons was extinguished, falling to the ground and smouldering briefly before guttering into death.

"You'll never succeed Potter!" the Son of Merlin screeched, and Severus was glad to see that the Brat had learned the fine art of keeping his trap shut in the midst of a duel. Potter didn't respond to the taunts his foe was spouting, casting steadily in response to the other mans attacks and rapidly gaining ground. The elves darting at his side forced the remaining demon back and away, extinguishing it with a double attack of air and water.

Moments later the Son of Merlin fell as well, as the brat impossibly increased the speed and force of his casting, sending out a positive battery of spells that his foe had no chance to evade or negate. It was a stunning display of skill and power that even Severus had to acknowledge. The brat had not defeated Voldemort on fame alone all those years ago, and the past decade had honed his skills even further.

"Dobby? Winky?" Harry's voice was breathless as he wordlessly secured his foe, "Are you injured?"

"No master, we is fine," Dobby soothed, and the brat smiled before lifting his voice to enquire about the humans that had battled with him even as the elves added their own bindings to their foe and to those that lay closest to them.

"Fine," Trinket called as he stepped out of concealment, "We're all unharmed."

"Nice use of the barrage spell," Potter smirked at the Goblin, who showed his teeth in reply.

"Nice of you to imprint the knowledge on us," the blonde assistant said from the left, and Potter chuckled, sweeping the man a small bow. He was still breathing hard from the duel, and the Italian linguist checked him over, concern on her face. Potter waved her off and hugged the werewolf that had dragged Severus out of concealment and over to the rest of the group. Severus could see some of the tension leave his lover, and just this once didn't begrudge Potter the brief hug. After all, he would have Remus in his bed that night.

"I believe we have an unanswered question," the male arithmancer reminded them, and Potter nodded, holding a hand out to Severus, the palm up as if requesting something.

"Potions Master Snape, would you happen to have some Veritaserum on you? As a representative of the International Unspeakables, I have need of some to interrogate my prisoner."

"Indeed, I do happen to have some at hand," Severus admitted reluctantly, and handed the small vial over. He wasn't supposed to be carrying such a controlled substance on his person, but he knew that Potter would have to cover for him if he wanted the new school to go ahead. It hadn't slipped his attention that Potter had just identified himself as an International Unspeakable. That would explain a lot about the wards, Potter's past exploits and the acceptance of the tent city by various international governments. Most countries would object to a group of witches and wizards settling on their soil, independent of their laws and customs. The fact that the group worked for or at least with the International Unspeakables would make their presence a lot more palatable to those governments, as well as more difficult for them to simply remove.

Potter hauled the Son of Merlin up with a grunt and tipped the requisite three drops onto the prisoners tongue before unbinding enough of him to allow free speech. While the brat waited for the truth serum to work he cast a generalised spell that saw the Dark Lords followers gathered in one spot and then caged. Wands were summoned easily by the Goblin who tucked them into his own battle robes, and the secretary conjured seats for them all to rest on while Potter turned his attention back to their main prize. It was all done without overt order or gesture, and Severus realised that he was dealing with more than one Unspeakable.

"Birth name?" Potter snapped and the Son of Merlin glared at him hatefully, struggling not to answer. Not even his followers knew what his name was, the secret so closely guarded that it had been rumoured in England that the man had no other name at all. Severus felt that rumour had been encouraged by the media, possibly at the pay of the man before him.

"Tristan Napoleon Fudge," the words were grated reluctantly, and Remus gasped. Even Severus was astonished. Cornelius Fudge had two sons, the eldest named after himself and the youngest apparently sitting here before them. Potter waved his hand sharply over the man's mask and it dissolved, revealing a face that was a younger copy of the present Minister, clearly recognisable despite the multi-coloured hair. Fudge had been in power for an unprecedented amount of time, and Severus gleefully thought that this piece of news would be enough to remove him from that power with no hope of recovery whatsoever.

"That explains a lot," Remus murmured, "He had access to his father's conversation, and Fudge isn't known for his ability to be silent and discrete. The Son of Merlin did seem to know a lot about what was being done to stop him, and he had avoided several traps set specifically to catch him."

"What was your purpose in attacking this location?" Potter was focussed on the main issue or at least the main issue for himself. After all, it was his family that had been threatened, and he would want to know who precisely was responsible for what. Severus himself was ready to assist with any form of revenge that Potter wished to extract, as the man was clearly able to breach England's wards at will.

"It was brought to my attention that you had possession of several artefacts that would assist in my goal to breach the Ministry and retrieve my Grimoire. Several of my followers had learned this information from reputable sources and I was able to confirm with my father that it was accurate. It was not difficult to discover your location once the flight of hippogriffs was pinpointed."

"Did you harm the flight?" the Goblin growled unexpectedly, and Potter relaxed a little at the denial that was issued.

Severus lost interest in the questions after that, as they turned to the more mundane list of crimes committed on foreign soil and so on. He settled back on his part of the bench and hauled Remus into his side, one hand patting over the werewolf perfunctorily to check for injuries before securing his mate firmly in place. A more thorough examination would have to wait until they were behind closed… curtains.

0o0o0o0

Next – the Blue dream redux… the red man cometh…


	9. Chapter 9

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Disclaimer – not mine

0o0o0o0

**The Children and Ron**

0o0o0o0

When the port key activated, Davy spent some time helping Uncle Hagrid and Ron corral and calm his brothers and sisters. Jimmy kept hold of Lily and Abby's hand, and Davy caught hold of Evan and Kit while May looked after Beth. Uncle Hagrid was generally in charge, and Uncle Ron spent some time wandering around the edge of the Herd, administering hugs and kisses as needed. Even though he was the oldest, and didn't really need it, Davy liked that Uncle Ron didn't leave him out of his share of hugs and kisses too.

"Don't worry," May whispered, "Mr Dobby and Missus Winky are with Daddy."

The faces of the younger children brightened at the news, because they all knew that Mr Dobby and Missus Winky were very protective of their Daddy, and would make sure that he didn't do anything silly, like getting hurt. Sometimes Daddy was asked to sort out what he called 'a spot of bother' and came back with cuts and bruises; but when Mr Dobby or Missus Winky went with him he always came back completely unhurt and cheerful. The Herd wished that they would go with Daddy all the time, but Daddy preferred that Missus Winky and Mr Dobby stayed to look after his children.

"Uncle Ron, are you and Uncle Hagrid staying with us forever?" Kit piped up after a moment and Jimmy rolled his eyes. Kit had a wandering attention span, and could pounce from one subject to another completely unexpectedly. They'd all had to learn to accept that little trick, though Daddy was the best at spotting the connections that Kit was making. Daddy sometimes pounced from one subject to another too, which Uncle Ray and Aunt Frannie complained about all the time. Davy thought that it was because they weren't pouncers.

"I'll be headin' back to my school sooner or later, little Kit," Uncle Hagrid rumbled as Uncle Ron finally settled down beside them, "I've go' my studen's to think abou' see?"

"I'll be staying," Uncle Ron added, giving them a hopeful smile. Beth smiled back happily and climbed into his lap, dragging May along with her. Uncle Ron made room for them both, and Davy reflected that it must be handy to have such long legs. Uncle Ron was much taller than their Daddy, not that Daddy seemed to mind. Davy wanted to be tall, but it was so hard to measure up against the others in the camp because there wasn't anyone his age living there at the moment. Not that he minded, because he was taller than Jimmy, and Jimmy was the closest to him in age. Davy thought that there was something wrong with Jimmy, that he was sick or something because of where he'd lived before joining Daddy's Herd. He'd overheard Uncle Armando talking to Daddy about it once, and Daddy had given Jimmy some very sad looks once or twice. Davy only vaguely remembered helping Daddy to decide to bring Jimmy and Lily into the Herd, and it had been Davy's suggestion that his new brother and sister been named after Grandmother and Grandfather.

"Cool! Will you let us try out all your new broom designs Uncle Ron?" Jimmy enthused, and his Uncle laughed at him, tipping him a wink.

"If your Daddy says that's ok, then I will," he agreed, and Uncle Hagrid looked relieved. Lily was sure that Uncle Hagrid had worried that Uncle Ron would say something that would upset Daddy when he heard about it, and wondered what that might have been.

"I'm sleepy," Evan announced in his straightforward way, "Can I go to bed now?"

"Yer bed isn't here, Evan," Uncle Hagrid pulled out his wand and waved it carefully. Uncle Hagrid was not as quick at casting as Daddy was, but May loved watching him make magic. Sometimes he made mistakes, but he always laughed them off. A big bed popped out of nowhere, and Uncle Hagrid started putting Evan and Abby to bed, with Uncle Ron changing their clothes into pyjamas and giving them a cleaning spell. The youngest ones went right into the middle of the bed, and Davy could see that there would be plenty of room for all of them eventually. It wasn't the first time they'd shared a bed to nap in, and wouldn't be the last. Sometimes Daddy even joined them in their 'nest' as he called it, snuggling up and napping too. May loved it when their Daddy would do that, it made her feel even safer and cosier.

All the parents around them were making beds appear to put their children to sleep in, and by the time Jimmy cuddled up to Lily and Davy all of the children in the city were tucked into some form of bed. Although he was supposed to be asleep, Jimmy kept an ear on Uncles Hagrid and Ron, wondering if they would let slip any information about where Daddy was and what he was doing. Although Daddy thought he'd forgotten, Jimmy could still remember the very first time they'd met, and the love and caring that his Daddy had showered on him in that awful tent. He'd seen Lily taken off to safety and then been sent himself, knowing that the man with green eyes would make sure that he could never be hurt by their Master again. Jimmy didn't like it when his Daddy wasn't right nearby at bed time. Daddy was the only one who could stop the Blue Dreams.

Uncle Hagrid and Uncle Ron were discussing some bloke called Merlin and his little boy. It sounded as if this boy had been very naughty and Daddy had gone to make him behave. Jimmy drowsily wondered why Merlin didn't do something about his own son, but then again Daddy was the best Daddy in the whole world and it made sense to Jimmy that other dads asked his for help. After all, if Jimmy was ever a Daddy he would still want his own to help him out.

0o0o0o0

Harry had rejoined them at daybreak, completely unscathed and looking quite calm. Ron kissed him for what felt like ages, while Harry's babies and Hagrid slept nearby, and when they came up for air Harry was almost laughing at him.

"Silly git," the affectionate scold and thump to the shoulder didn't seem to bother the green eyed man, "You had me worried!"

"Sorry, it took a bit longer than I thought to wrap things up. The battle itself only lasted half an hour tops. It was the processing and the transportation of prisoners that took the most time. I sent Dobby and Winky back to the camp – they're getting a communal breakfast ready, while the rest of the team double checks the wards and tents. Once everyone's up I'll reverse the port key. We'll feed the kids and then have a meeting."

"I have to wait that long to find out what happened?" Ron feigned indignation well, and Harry rolled his eyes lightly. His friend had never been taken in by Ron's acting abilities, something that had made Christmas and birthday presents difficult to lie about. On the other hand, if you were going to spend the rest of your life with someone, you wanted it to be someone who knew you well, and Ron was more than happy to know that of all the people in the world Harry still knew him the best.

"No, I'll tell you now if you want," Harry offered, but Ron could see that his lover, and although they hadn't had sex yet that title still applied as far as the redhead was concerned, was tired.

"Nah, I can wait," Ron pulled Harry into another hug and rubbed his back idly to soothe and comfort him, "No point in repeating it a million times."

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, leaning more heavily against the redhead as he relaxed, "My babies?"

"Slept the night through without a worry," Ron murmured, accepting the weight happily along with the trust and love it implied, "Hagrid sat up the first part of the night, and then I took over. We wanted to make sure that everything went smoothly for you. Where are we, by the way?"

The port key had dropped them into a large echoing space, with high dusty windows, featureless walls and a roughly finished floor. The wards on it hummed with fierce protective power, and Ron had enough experience to know that wherever they were, they were unplottable, silenced and reinforced. Exploration of the large space had revealed a well stocked kitchen, brimming with potions and food, and a bathroom set up rather like the dorms at Hogwarts had been. If they had to, the whole city could stay here for a month quite comfortably.

"Warehouse I bought in Rome," Harry sighed, snuggling even closer and sounding a bit drowsy, "It seemed better to make sure I sent you all somewhere you could live for a while without outside interference."

"Good plan," Ron nodded and together they waited for the others to wake. Jimmy was first, and he let go of his sister and older brother to wriggle from the pile of Potters and come sit on his Uncle's lap, because his Daddy was dozing comfortably on Ron's shoulder.

"Is Daddy alright?" Ron smiled down into worried eyes and kissed Jimmy on the top of the head, nodding quietly.

"He's a bit tired that's all. Once we're all up we're going home, and we'll put Daddy to bed, alright?" he promised and Jimmy smiled approval of the plan. Ron had already picked up that Harry's children liked to take care of him in little ways, and that Harry allowed them to do so, within reason. At the end of the day he was in charge, and his children knew it.

It took another hour for everyone to wake and be ready to go home. The extra furniture was banished and Harry activated the communal tables and chairs to take everyone back to the city of tents. Mere seconds after their arrival there was a mound of breakfast foods on the tables and the rest of Harry's team were hugging their families and allowing themselves to be fussed over. Harry had been buried under his children when they'd first spotted him, and it had taken Hagrid's strength to fish him out, before the half giant enveloped the green eyed man in his own hug.

Once the children had eaten and were playing happily, Harry stood up and told the adults of the city precisely who had attacked them and what had happened. From the look on Hagrid's face, the half-giant was as shocked as Ron that the British Minister of Magic was the father of a self declared Dark Lord. A visibly pregnant Neville actually got the hiccups in rage upon hearing that news and had to be led off by Luna to calm down.

"After the way he's treated yer, Harry…" Hagrid trailed off when Harry shook his head, and sighed, "Ah suppose yer righ' lad. Be'er to be th' bigger man an' all…"

Ron smiled and traded looks with his love that promised they would speak about this in private. Harry deserved a good gloat, even if no one else ever knew about it.

0o0o0o0

Daddy was very tired when he got back from making the nasty man behave, so Davy organised his brothers and sisters to help him put Daddy to bed. Uncle Hagrid thought this was very funny, but Uncle Ron promised to make sure that Daddy didn't sneak out of bed once they left, and settled onto the mattress beside him. Daddy cuddled right up to Uncle Ron, so Davy left them to it and shooed his brothers and sisters out. Jimmy and May hunted down Mr Dobby and Missus Winky to make sure they were alright too, and sent them off to bed as well, telling them that the Herd would manage to make their own lunch with Uncle Hagrid. Missus Winky looked a little worried about that, but May promised that they'd only make sandwiches, and then insisted on tucking the green lady into her bed.

Uncle Hagrid suggested that it would be a good idea for them all to play outside for a little while, and Davy suggested that they finish the tree house they were building. There was a tree leaning out low over the water near to where Daddy let them swim, with branches spread out in a way that was perfect for a tree house. Uncle Hagrid agreed to come and supervise, and brought along a stack of papers to look at while the siblings got together the last bits of wood they needed to finish their new plaything.

Beth was in charge of the ladder, as she was the best weaver with the vines that they'd gathered, and Evan and Abby spent most of their time clambering around the roots of the tree, looking for flowers and pretty leaves to decorate with. It was agreed that they were too little to really help, and Kit volunteered to stay with them, as he was the next youngest. He didn't get to be in charge much, so they let him, with the understanding that someone would be keeping an eye on him as well from the older siblings.

Headmaster Snape wandered by at one point with Uncle Moony, and leant his wand to Beth's weaving, making the ladder grow flowers. From the way he scowled that wasn't what he'd intended, but Beth liked the new additions and wouldn't let him banish them away. Davy resigned himself to a girly ladder and Jimmy muttered that they could always just climb across from the next tree anyway, which wasn't too hard to scale. Uncle Moony thought that it was funny and Headmaster Snape pulled him away, muttering under his breath.

After that it was lunchtime, so Davy and Beth got all the things they'd need to make sandwiches out of Missus Winky's kitchen and onto the dining room table. That way they wouldn't make a mess that Missus Winky felt she had to clean up – she was very particular about her kitchen and the state it was left in, and she wouldn't be able to rest if they made a big mess of it. They had planned to be quiet for lunch, so as not to wake Daddy, but he got up anyway, and he seemed a lot better. Uncle Ron hauled him off to have a shower and clean up when they'd all finished eating, and Beth and May went to find some friends while the three littlest ones had a nap and Lily, Davy and Jimmy went back to the tree house.

Brightfeather showed up, and Uncle Hagrid spent a lot of time talking to the beast, which eventually lured him off to see the rest of the flight. Davy promised that they would stay in the tree house or go back to the tent, and Uncle Hagrid cast a spell to stop them from falling into the water. The magic felt warm and gentle, just like Daddy's spells did, so Davy and his siblings were not worried about being left to play alone. After all, they'd done that once or twice before and knew what they were and weren't allowed to do. Daddy trusted them to behave, and no one wanted to let him down.

Just as Jimmy and Davy were putting the finishing touches on the railing that was to run along one side of the tree house, there was a chuckle from the ground. Lily was actually higher up in the tree, trying to find leaves broad enough to make a roof of sorts for one part of the tree house, so Jimmy felt that it was ok for him to go over and have a look to see who was chuckling.

"There you are," said the man at the bottom, his voice creepily familiar, "I've been looking all over for you, my little Canary!"

"No!" Jimmy squeaked, taking in the rough clothes, the scarred face and the wild hair, just the same colour as his own, "No! Go away!"

The man from his nightmares stood at the bottom of the vine ladder, a wand in his hand, one foot poised to climb up. Jimmy felt cold and sick, his hands shaking wildly as he reached for the knot that would untie the ladder and maybe keep them a little bit safer for a bit longer. The man at the bottom of the ladder yelled something and Jimmy jumped back from the spell, whatever it was before trying for the knot again.

"Hey!" Davy yelled from behind him, "Leave my brother alone!"

The bad man roared at this and threw another spell at them. Jimmy screamed as he dodged, turning his head he watched the spell hit Davy instead, sending him flying off the edge of the tree house and well out over the water, landing with a terrible splash.

"Davy! No! Davy!" Jimmy watched as his brother's body half floated half sunk, Davy not moving at all to stay on top of the water. His Blue Dream! It was all coming true! Jimmy dove determinedly for the knot and this time a little spark flew from his hands and cut the vine, sending it down to the ground and making the bad man, who had started his climb, tumble back down to the dirt.

Up in the canopy of the tree, Lily clutched the branches she was hiding in tightly, horrified at the scene below. When Davy went into the water she knew it was time to get help, but how? She wished her Daddy was here, but couldn't go to get him because if she left Davy like that he'd drown. A little white bird flew from her chest and arrowed away towards their tent, and Lily gulped for a moment then clambered quickly across to the next tree. Jimmy was shouting and throwing things at the bad man, who was trying to hit him with some mean sounding spells, but Lily lost track of them as she cleared Uncle Hagrid's spell and slid into the water, striking out for her big brother and hoping that she was strong enough to get him to the shore. Daddy had made all four of the eldest siblings practise what to do if there was an accident in the water, though he never let any of them swim unless he was there to keep watch. Lily was glad of the lessons now as she turned Davy onto his back and tugged him towards the shore. Once she could get her feet down she stood up and towed her big brother along, sobbing in fright as she watched the bad man finally get up onto the platform where Jimmy was. Her big brother was frozen against the tree trunk, and she could hear him crying as the man stepped towards him.

There was an almighty crack, and Uncle Ron appeared on the shore, lunging forward into the water to help her with Davy. Lily tried to be strong, but Uncle Ron wrapped her in his arms as well, pulling them both onto dry land. Lily twisted her head to see if Jimmy was alright and gave a little cry of relief. Daddy was standing between her brother and the bad man, his wand at the ready and a fiercely angry look on his face. Everything would be alright now.

0o0o0o0

Ron didn't think he'd ever been so terrified in his life as when the little bird message zoomed in through the tent wall and started screaming for its Daddy. Harry sat bolt upright, as if he'd never been slouched on the couch reading a book, and it took Ron a moment for his ears to catch up with his brain.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! The bad man is hurting Jimmy and Davy!" Lily's voice was raw with terror, and Harry's face took on a grim cast. He was up on his feet and grabbing Ron's arm.

"They're here, at the tree house," Harry said flatly, and the location was pushed into Ron's mind, Harry's fingers squeezing a brief apology to him. It was usually considered bad manners to push knowledge into another's head without asking first, or at least warning them.

"I'll head for the shore," Ron volunteered, knowing that he could very well splinch himself if he tried to apparate directly into the tree house with that brief burst of knowledge. They disapparated at the same time, and Ron immediately spotted Lily, wading towards the shore, towing her unconscious big brother. Davy was turning blue, and the sight made Ron recall suddenly the Blue Dream that Jimmy had suffered through not long after the Weasley's had arrived in camp. He was in the water in a flash, scooping up both children and pulling them onto dry land. A glance at the tree house showed Harry between the red head and his son, and then Ron was setting up a protective barrier, just like they had learned to on the battlefield when they were teenagers, and was trying to revive Davy. A quick spell showed that the boy had some internal damage, and this was preventing him from breathing properly. Ron sent a quick summons off to Armando, reluctant to move the child and make his injuries worse. He also fired off summons to Trinket and Hagrid, hoping that they'd get here in time to back Harry up. Lily was clinging to his back, sobbing in fright, but Ron couldn't spare her much thought, everything he had was going into keeping Davy alive.

A stray spell impacted on the shield and Ron risked glancing up. Jimmy was sealed behind a protective bubble of Harry's magic, and Harry was fiercely duelling the redhead that had attacked his children. Ron thought that he could see the family resemblance between Jimmy and his attacker, but was too busy to really ponder on it. His lover was at a disadvantage, as he was trying to protect himself and his sons from someone who would clearly be happy to see them all dead.

There was a pop and Armando apparated to their side. Ron had not set his shield to block such actions, knowing that it was the quickest and safest way for them to get help for Davy. The Healer took over the spells that Ron was using to maintain Davy's breathing and Ron backed off carefully, turning to spell Lily dry and gather her into his arms. She was very bedraggled and buried her face in his neck, sobbing in fright and reaction.

A glance outside his shield showed that Trinket and Severus were at the foot of the tree house, trying to gain access to the two duellers. The redhead, whoever he was, had evidently erected a block to stop reinforcements from arriving, and Harry was too busy duelling and protecting his son to assist those that wished to help him. Harry's face was set in hard and unfamiliar lines, a harshness about him so opposite from his usually open and loving expression.

This was the expression of a man who would kill for someone he loved.

Armando tapped Ron on the arm. Some of the blue had faded from Davy's face, and the Healer's movements were quick but no longer frantic.

"Davy is stable enough to be moved," the Healer said quietly, "You'll need to take your shield down before we go, which will leave me vulnerable as I leave. Cover me, and then bring Lily with you."

"Ok," Ron nodded and got the girl and his wand into place. Lily clung tightly to him, and Ron took a moment to whisper in her ear, reassuring her that her brother was alright and they were going to the hospital tent. Then he collapsed the shield and raised his wand to a defensive posture. With the shield gone the fury of the duel in front of them washed over them all, the noise almost incomprehensible for a moment as his ears struggled to adjust to the sudden influx of sound. Armando popped away with Davy and Ron straightened to his feet, preparing to follow, his eyes glued to the sight in front of him.

Just as he disapparated he heard the two words he hoped never to hear in relation to his lover ever again. The deadly green spell hit Harry on the shoulder as the world disappeared in the familiar displacement of the travelling spell.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

0o0o0o0

Jimmy cowered behind his Daddy's shield, watching as his former Master battled to get to him, to hurt him like he used to. Daddy had placed a strong spell on Jimmy, and it was keeping most of the noise away, but he could see the spell flashes and see the effects they were having on the world around him.

The bad man had tried all sorts of spells that used the tree house against Daddy, but Daddy was quick to put a stop to that. The Herd's tree house would likely never recover from this battle, but Jimmy never wanted to come back here again. He couldn't imagine playing where Davy had been so badly hurt.

Movement on the ground beyond the tree house caught his eye, and he saw Uncle Ron kneeling over Davy while Lily cried nearby. His brother was out of the water at least, and from the state of her clothes, it looked like it was Lily who had pulled him out. He was grateful that his sister wasn't stuck in the tree above them and had Uncle Ron to protect her. A stray spell was sent their way but rebounded off Uncle Ron's shield, which reassured Jimmy that his Uncle was taking no chances with his sibling's lives.

Daddy cut off his view of the trio on the shore, dodging a blue coloured spell, and Jimmy shivered at the hateful expression on the bad mans face. He shouted something at Daddy, but Jimmy could see that Daddy was ignoring the taunts, just as he'd told his children to do. Returning taunts just made the situation worse, or that was what Daddy said. Jimmy could see that Daddy only wanted to end the fight as soon as possible, and that was alright with him. He needed to feel his Daddy's arms around him, he needed to see Davy and Lily and be hugged by the rest of the Potter Herd.

Daddy stepped away again and Jimmy could see that Uncle Ron had been joined by Uncle Armando, who was taking care of Jimmy while Lily cried on Uncle Ron's neck. Jimmy was terrified that Lily was crying because Davy was going Blue, just like he had in Jimmy's dream. Things that went Blue usually died, like Madge had when Jimmy dreamed about her fighting off a serpent that was after the twins.

After a bit Uncle Armando touched Uncle Ron and Uncle Ron looked over at Jimmy and Daddy before nodding and gathering Lily closer. He waved his wand and Uncle Armando disappeared with Davy. Uncle Ron got to his feet with Lily, and looked over one more time. He got a very horrified look on his face just as he disappeared and Jimmy twisted to look up at his Daddy just as a green spell hit him.

For a moment everything was still, even the leaves on the tree didn't move as if the tree was waiting for something to happen. The spell had hit Daddy on the shoulder and Jimmy sobbed inside his warm bubble of magic, unable to help his Daddy or himself.

Then there was a loud rushing noise, so loud that Jimmy put his hands over his ears and cried out in surprise. Daddy began to glow green all over, his body stiff, his eyes fixed on the bad man. The bad man stumbled back in surprise, shouting something that Jimmy couldn't hear over the noise, and then the green light rushed away from Daddy and hit the bad man.

The bad man disappeared, fading bit by bit until he wasn't there any more. The bubble around Jimmy popped and he sobbed in fright as Daddy fell to his knees, his wand dropping to the ground.

"Daddy!" Jimmy squeaked and rushed to catch him as he slumped sideways, falling heavily over Jimmy's legs.

"Potter!" Uncle Trinket's voice shouted and then Uncle Trinket himself appeared, followed by Headmaster Snape. Jimmy was patting his Daddy's face, the way they all did when they wanted to wake him up, and calling his name anxiously. Daddy didn't move, didn't wake, and as Jimmy watched his lips began to turn Blue.

"NO! DADDY!" Jimmy screamed, terrified that Daddy was dying and the hysterical boy shook his father desperately, the dark head rolling in his lap. There was a small jolt as magic flew from Jimmy into his Daddy and then Daddy coughed, and the Blue went away.

Headmaster Snape had to carry Jimmy to the Hospital tent after Uncle Trinket took Daddy there with magic. Jimmy was in no fit state to manage it himself.

0o0o0o0

Ron smiled gently and stroked Harry's hair from his face as tired green eyes fluttered open. It seemed that whatever it was about the son of James and Lily Potter that allowed Harry to take and rebound the killing curse, returning Hate with Love, was still very much in effect. Davy was potioned and asleep in the next bed, clutching Jimmy who was under the same potion. Lily was with her siblings under Hagrid's watchful eye, and had been for the past three days.

Ron had been too busy dealing with Lily and then Jimmy's hysterics to spare much worry for Harry. His lover had been breathing, though unconscious, when brought to the hospital tent, and Armando had pronounced him to be in no danger. The Healer had still been working frantically to heal Davy's injuries at the time, and Ron had been grateful that Snape was there to give the children calming concoctions.

Harry had been suffering from magical exhaustion, which was unsurprising given the amount of magic he'd expelled repelling the most feared of the Unforgivables. Armando had stated it was best to let him sleep it off, though Harry himself had woken only hours later, struggling through his exhaustion to check on his children, and only letting go when Ron had held him up from the mattress long enough to see the now stable Davy and unconscious Jimmy.

The boys had been too ill and too upset respectively to leave the hospital tent, though Armando was sure that by the time Harry had regained his strength the boys would also be able to go home. Harry's children came every day to see the three in the hospital tent, and each of his children spent some time giving their sleeping Daddy kisses and hugs, trying to make him feel better by giving him their love. The process was repeated with the still terrified Jimmy and the weakened Davy, and Ron had to admit that the boys seemed better after the loving attention lavished on them by their siblings each morning.

Apparently the man who had attacked the children in the tree house was called Hans Gustav, known in the trade that Harry had mastered as the Tomb Raider. He was one of the biological parents of Lily and Jimmy, and the abuser that had allowed Jimmy to suffer so badly with spell damage. Harry had seen him committed to a German prison, and had not expected that the man would be released within his lifetime. Gustav had murdered the prostitute that he'd used to help create the two children now named for Harry's parents, and on top of that his crimes against his children, not to mention the International laws he'd violated on several occasions when robbing tombs or smuggling Dark artefacts, should have kept him in gaol until he was nothing more than a faded memory.

Inquiries with the International Unspeakables revealed that the man had escaped only days before the Son of Merlin had attacked the camp and news of the capture of the self-styled British Dark Lord had led him to the camp and his former children.

It seemed that Lily had no memory of her biological father, and hadn't seen enough of the man or the duel to stir too many unpleasant memories, beyond the fears she held for her father and brothers. Jimmy had a much better recall of his time spent with that particular monster, and Armando was looking quite grim about his chances of recovering without Harry's loving help. It seemed that Harry had put his son back together once before, and Jimmy was relying on him to do so once again.

Davy had been too weak to really work himself into a state, and careful questioning had revealed that the boy recalled very little of the events that had led to his injuries. Ron had spent most of his time with both of the boys, soothing and cuddling as best he could, well aware that he was coming in a poor second for Jimmy.

"Hey there, Harry," Ron whispered softly, "They're alright, everyone is ok. We're all safe now."

The confusion and worry cleared from Harry's eyes and he gave a weak smile of relief. Ron whispered that Gustav was no threat any more – he wasn't sure how much Harry remembered of the final moments of their duel – and that Davy and Jimmy weren't hurt.

"Jimmy… he's afraid," Harry muttered, "I heard him crying in my dreams."

"I know," Ron nodded, "He wants his Daddy."

"Papa isn't enough at the moment," Harry finished the sentence that Jimmy had astonished Ron with. All of the Herd were calling him Papa now, as if Jimmy's acceptance of him as a parent was enough for them to include him properly in the family. Ron smiled and kissed the scarred forehead, much as the Herd did, his fingers tracing over the new lightning bolt on Harry's upper shoulder. Harry shivered a little, but leaned into the kiss, making a pleased sound.

"I love you Papa," he murmured and Ron chuckled.

"I love you too, Daddy."

0o0o0o0

Next – Harry wraps it up for us (in a very short epilogue)


	10. Chapter 10

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Disclaimer – not mine

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**Epilogue**

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Harry tapped the ward stone that Trinket monitored, officially signing out from the site for the night. This particular tomb was proving to be a fascinating blend of magic's from three very old cultures, an almost unprecedented find. His team were once again breaking new ground, having to re-write the procedural handbook to deal with the spells, traps and wards on this site, and he wouldn't have it any other way. They were the best in the field, and he didn't want them getting bored with their jobs. If that happened they might think about leaving, and then he'd have to hold interviews to replace them, and that just didn't bear thinking about.

His apprentice was waiting just inside the cities wards, and Harry repressed a sigh. The woman was not really cut out for living in a city of tents, the lack of night life, dearth of shopping and the limited shagging opportunities had all been almost insurmountable stumbling blocks for her. Harry was almost ready to fail her and return her to Gringott's for further remedial training, as her impatience and sloppy research habits were also holding her back from progressing as he would expect someone of her age and reported abilities.

Harry had sent her back to the camp to research exactly why it was never a good idea to test any wards strength by sticking your wand into it and sending an unfocussed pulse of magic through said wand. They had been very lucky not to have to mop her up and send her back to the Bank in buckets, and after a truly spectacular tantrum on his part; Harry had dismissed her to her tent for the day. Now he understood where Snape had gotten some of his vitriol from in Potions class.

The requested essay was not up to standard, and Harry took mean satisfaction in telling his wayward apprentice so, almost quoting some of his former Potion's professor's comments from his own homework essays as he tore the work verbally apart and sent her away with a flea in her ear. He sent a message bird to Ray with a request that his assistant start the paper work to get the woman reassigned to the nearest branch of Gringott's and stretched some of the tension out of his shoulders as he headed for home. If he knew Ray at all, the man had the paper work all ready to go and carefully hidden in a compartment of his desk. In fact Harry would be willing to bet that Ferdi had probably helped him with it.

In the five years since Ron had become the Papa of the Potter Herd, things had gone from strength to strength. Jimmy had eventually recovered from the terror of watching Harry rebound the killing curse, and Davy's health had been recouped with some tender loving care and close monitoring on Armando's behalf. The boys had been unable to tell them what curse had blasted Davy out over the water, and the near drowning had only complicated things for his eldest son. Jimmy and Davy were now attending the Nomadic Academy for Magical Excellence, as were May and Lily. All four of them were thriving in school, and the challenge of mastering the spells that he now used without second thought was something that his children clearly relished.

The familiar tent with the blue and gold awning came into sight, and Harry chuckled when he spotted Kit sitting outside in the old deckchair that Harry had conjured so many years ago. There was a book in his son's lap, and a pad of paper balanced on the arm of the chair. Kit was evidently doing his homework, or at least researching his homework, and it was probably too noisy inside for him to concentrate. His children had not lost their love for Marauding, and the noise levels could be a bit much to tolerate when you were trying to concoct a decent reply to a homework task.

"Hello son," Harry bent and kissed the red stripe in his son's hair, and Kit looked up with a pleased smile, shutting his books and giving his father a hug.

"How was work Daddy?" Kit asked, and Harry smiled. His children liked to ask how his day was, though they rarely got a complete answer on that topic. There were some things they just didn't need to know about and some things were not fit topics for discussion at the dinner table. He didn't lie; he just didn't give them the whole and unvarnished truth.

"It was a bit stressful today, my apprentice made a very serious error, and nearly got hurt," Harry helped collect the deck chair and Kit frowned up at him.

"You should send her away, Daddy. She's made lots of big mistakes now," his son advised him, and Harry chuckled, messing up already wild hair. Kit scowled and tried to straighten it, to no avail. All his children had inherited his hair, though the girls at least had an advantage as they wore it long and braided it out of the way to disguise their unruly curls.

"I'm thinking very seriously about it," Harry admitted, and Kit nodded seriously. The rest of his children spotted him, and Harry found himself giving hugs and kisses and listening to the thousand and one details that his children deemed important to tell him about their day. Ron interrupted long enough to give him a kiss of his own, and Harry snuck a friendly grope when no one was looking.

"If there's any more of that behaviour there will be a short sharp visit from the smack fairy!" Ron whispered in Harry's ear and the green eyed man snorted before starting the process of getting everyone cleaned up and ready for dinner.

As he stood in the bathroom curtain-way, he ran his eye over the familiar interior of his home. The canvas walls were adorned with a series of photos of the children and the rest of the family, Ron's achievement and industry awards interspersed among them, as were Harry's own. There were artefacts from countries all over the world on display, and the familiar and beloved clutter of eight children, two men and two house elves scattered over the tables and book cases. The couches were currently hosting no less than five wands and a mug with 'papa' on it in wonky letters, and Harry wondered what charm or spell Ron had been demonstrating before he'd come home.

It may not be the traditional cottage with two and a half children and a white picket fence, but it was Harry's life, built out of necessity, steeped in love and blessed with family, and there was nothing in the world that he valued more.

"Daddy! Are you coming? We can't start dinner without you!" Abby scolded from the dining table, and he rejoined the world with a rush. Nine faces smiled their love at him, and he couldn't help but smile back.

"Sorry pet! Coming now!"

0o0o0o0

**!!END!!**

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The end the end! There ain't no more! My story's done! That's all, that's all!


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